Dawn of the Caribbean 3: The Dawn of the Pack
by APhantasm
Summary: This is the sequel to my Dawn of the Caribbean. 230 years after drinking from the Fountain of Youth, Dawn is bitten by a werewolf.
1. Chapter 1: Beginnings

**Summary:** This is the sequel to my Dawn of the Carribean. 230 years after drinking from the Fountain of Youth, Dawn is bitten by a werewolf.

 **Pairing:** Dawn/Buffy/Clay - Yes there will be some incest.

 **A.U:** This is Set in my Dawn of the Carribean Universe. It picks up 230 years after Dawn and Buffy drank from the Fountain of Youth. And takes place in time span that covers 16 years from 1980 to 1996 and will lead into DoTC3: The Green Witch, which takes place during seasons 1-3 of BTVS.

 **Disclaimer:** Joss Whedon owns Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Kelley Armstrong owns the Women of Otherworld Series.

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Beginnings**

 **1980**

"Your hours will be four to eight—Tuesdays, nine to five—Saturdays, and the occasional Sunday afternoon." Ms. Milken, the editor of the New York University campus newspaper, looked up at Dawn. "I trust that won't be a problem."

Dawn looked at Ms. Milken and frowned. It had been over two hundred years since she and Buffy had drank from the Fountain of Youth. And in that time a few things had come to pass. The first was their wealth. They had money to spare, thanks to Jack Sparrow, Dawn's one and only true love. Another was that she had gotten her Ph.D. thirty years before.

Dawn's identity at that moment was of a college student. With Buffy on her way to Toronto to set up their new identities she had to add in, albeit temporarily, a part time job to make it look like she didn't have any money. That was something they did was hide the wealth. They came up with reasons to dip into it. Loans for example or in this particular case student loans.

"Twelve hours a week?" Dawn said. "When I applied, you said a minimum of twenty."

"Business needs change, Dawn," she said. "I believe I said a _possibility_ of twenty hours a week."

Dawn sighed; she could make do of course as it meant pulling more money out of their Swiss bank accounts. But to do that required both hers and Buffy's signatures. And with Buffy in Toronto… "Maybe I misheard. But if you ever need someone to work extra hours, I can always use the money. I'll leave a copy of my schedule. I'm free anytime that I don't have classes. Even at the last minute. Just give me a call."

Ms. Milken pursed her lips, then reached over to a stack of paper, plucked a single sheet from the middle, and handed it to Dawn. "Tips for winterizing gardens," she said. "Turn it into an article. Ten inches. For this week's edition."

Dawn took the sheet and smiled. "I'll drop it off first thing in the morning."

"This week's edition goes to bed in two hours."

"Two—?" Dawn's smile collapsed. "I have a class at three."

"Is this going to be a problem, Dawn? I've hired students before, and I was reluctant to do so again. I need to know that your priorities are here. Not with boys or parties or bar-hopping or sororities."

"I have my priorities straight," Dawn said. "My job is second only to my classes."

"That won't do."

"Maybe, after today, I can skip the occasional class, if it's for something critical," Dawn said. "But this is the first week of classes, and it's my first time in this particular class, so I really can't miss it." She met Ms. Milken's gaze. "But …well, maybe I could give it a shot. I still have an hour."

The only reason she was even buttering up to the woman was because Ms. Milken had asked no questions she would have trouble answering. Such as where are you from. When were you born? When you're over two hundred years old you have to be careful as a lot of stuff requires careful planning. Such as social security numbers and new identities.

"There's a desk out front."

At 2:37, Dawn handed the article to Ms. Milken. she'd worked on it for fifty-five minutes, but Ms. Milken informed her that the company paid in fifteen-minute increments, so she'd be reimbursed for forty-five.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Dawn headed for her anthropology class. While not in the realm of her Ph.D. in mythology. It was still a distant cousin and could provide her aspects into demons that mythology might not know. She cut through Washington Square Park and veered toward Rufus D. Smith Hall, then stopped dead. She didn't have the classroom number. Her timetable was in her knapsack, which she'd left in the apartment she shared with Buffy, wanting to look professional for Ms. Milken she had left it behind. And because of the article that Ms. Milken had her do she didn't have time to run to the apartment and get it. She only had a few minutes to get to class. She dug out her cell phone and dialed hoping Buffy would remember.

"Hey Dawnie," Buffy answered.

"Please tell me you remember what my class schedule was like?" Dawn asked.

"Actually I think I have a copy of it with me. You know just in case I need to contact ya for emergencies before the move. Hold on," Buffy said as Dawn heard her sister going through some papers. "Here we go. I assume you want the Anthropology class that your about to be late for."

"Yeah," Dawn said.

By the time Dawn reached the classroom, she was a minute late, and the TA was already closing the door.

The professor wasn't even there yet, just his teaching assistant, a blond grad student who had the audacity to glare at Dawn as if she'd waltzed in mid-lecture. So when he glowered at her, she glowered back and swept past him up the steps into the lecture hall.

"Dawn!" someone hissed.

Dawn turned to see a girl, she recognized from one of her other classes, who tugged her knapsack off the seat beside her and waved Dawn into it.

"Thanks," Dawn whispered as she sat down.

"Seemed like it was filling up fast, and I knew you were coming. Did you check out the TA? Oh my God. I heard the prof was cute, but that TA is gorgeous. I'm already planning to have some trouble with this course." She grinned. "I'll need serious assistance."

Dawn smiled and shook her head. When she looked up, the guy had closed the door and returned to the lectern.

The TA began. "If you're here for Anthropology 258, Ritual and Religion in the Americas, you're in the right place. If not, you have fifteen seconds to get out the door without disturbing those who know how to read a room number."

"Oh my God," Trina whispered as two kids snuck, shamefaced, out the door.

"Unbelievable, huh?" Dawn said. "Nothing like a TA with an attitude."

"No, I mean his accent. That is the sexiest drawl I've ever heard. Where do you think he's from? Tennessee? Texas?"

Dawn shrugged.

"So, now that the rest of you know where you are," the TA continued, "or think you do, let's get started. My name, in case you didn't read the syllabus, is Clayton Danvers. I'm your professor for this class."

Dawn's head whipped up so fast she nearly dropped her notebook. She looked down at the podium, and she swore he was looking straight at her.

An hour later Dawn ducked out the door without as much as a glance at the _TA/Professor_.

"You!" the _TA_ called as he strode after Dawn but she kept moving, pretending not to hear him. He jogged right up behind her and called again, but she just continued weaving past the other students, giving them wide berth, careful not to jostle or even brush against anyone else. She zipped around a corner.

A moment later Dawn heard him behind her calling yet again. When she didn't respond again, he grabbed her arm. Years of sparring with Buffy had trained her reflexes and she whirled, wrenching her arm away. It took a little effort to keep her from dropping into a combat stance.

"Professor Danvers," Dawn said.

"You know who I am?" Clayton Danvers said. "Good. Now maybe you'll extend me the same courtesy."

Dawn tilted her head, nose scrunching.

"Your name," Professor Danvers said finally. "You didn't answer roll call."

"Oh. Right. Dawn. Dawn Michaels," Dawn said. "I'm not in your class. I'm on the waiting list. Third."

"Classes are for registered students only."

Dawn shrugged. "Sure, but I tried to register—"

"Not hard enough," Clay said. "The class didn't fill until near the end of the registration period, meaning you obviously couldn't be bothered—"

"Couldn't be bothered?" Dawn glared at him. She knew Buffy would so have punched the guy for cornering her like this. "Fine."

"Fine? Fine what?"

"Fine, meaning I'll stay out of your class until I get a spot. _If_ I get a spot." Dawn said. "Not that it really matters I'll be gone after the semester ends anyways. Excuse me." She slipped around him and got two feet before he swung into her path.

"Why?" Professor Danvers said.

"Why what?" Dawn snapped.

"The class," Professor Danvers said, softening his tone. "Why did you want to take the class? Is this your area in anthropology?"

Dawn hesitated, she studied him, wary. Some of Buffy's teachings running through her mind. After a moment, she relaxed and leaned against the wall again. "No, I'm not in anthro. Sorry. Journalism."

She was only taking journalism classes so that when she joined Buffy in Toronto she would be able to get a job. She would teleport into the records office at NYU and plant the transcripts to show that Dawn Sparrow, the new identity she would be going under after the move, had graduated with a bachelor's degree in Journalism. The only college she had actually finished was for her Ph.D. But she couldn't tell him about that. He would become suspicious on how a seemingly twenty year old woman already had a Ph.D.

"Journalism?"

Dawn laughed. "Yes, people do choose to become reporters. Shocking, isn't it?" She shifted her bag to her shoulder. "I take anthropology as my annual extra. Last year I did my term paper on religion. I came across your thesis, read it, thought it was interesting, and used it. Then I saw you were teaching the first half of this course. I wanted to take it, but—" She shrugged. "Things came up. I registered late."

"You read my thesis?" Clay asked.

"You think I'm lying?" Dawn asked. "It's published. There's a copy right here at—"

"Do you still have your paper?"

"You _do_ think I'm lying," Dawn said. If she wasn't in a crowded hallway with a normal person standing in front of her. She would teleport just to get away from him.

"If you still have last term's paper, I want to see it," Clay said. "Then you can sit in while you wait for an opening."

"Fine," Dawn said. "I'll drop it by your office tomorrow—"

"What's wrong with now?"

Dawn's jaw tightened and she told him, through clenched teeth, that she had a seven o'clock class and hoped to eat dinner; He agreed to let her drop it off tomorrow at ten, after his morning class.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Dawn strode down the quiet hall. She had called Buffy the night before to ask where she had filed the anthro paper away after first griping about the professor. Buffy told Dawn not to let Professor Danvers get to her. And then helped Dawn, via phone, to find the paper.

Dawn brushed past two students trying to decipher a professor's handwritten office-hours chart. The next door was Danvers's. She didn't even get a chance to knock before he yanked it open. He must have been leaving. "Just dropping this off," she said, stepping out of his way.

"Come in."

"That's okay. You were heading out, so I'll—" Dawn said.

He frowned. "I wasn't heading out. I was opening the door for you."

"How did you—?" Dawn said as she extended her magic senses. She didn't sense any magic radiating from him. She then shook her head and held out her paper. "Here it is."

"Come in."

He turned and walked back in without waiting for an answer. The door shut behind him.

Dawn opened the door and walked in as Clay took his seat behind the desk. "Here's that paper." she started to lay it on the desk, then thought better of it and put it on an empty bookshelf instead. "My phone number is inside the cover. If I don't hear from you by Friday, I'll assume its okay to show up in class."

"Sit."

"What?" Dawn asked.

He waved at the chair across the desk. "Sit."

Dawn resisted the urge to bark, and answered by not answering…and not sitting.

"Suit yourself," he said. "Pass me that paper."

He opened it. Dawn waited, expecting him to flip through. Instead he leaned back in his chair, put his feet on the desk, paper crumpling beneath his loafers, and began to read.

Dawn checked her watch. "I have an appointment in twenty minutes."

He glanced at the clock. "I'll keep you for fifteen, then."

"Its way over in the Koffler Center. At the bookstore," Dawn said.

"You can buy your texts later."

"It's for a job interview," Dawn said. When she had gotten back to the apartment after the anthropology class. She had found that the campus bookstore had called to setup an interview and with the fact the newspaper wanted to give her such bad hours. She decided to go ahead with the job interview for the bookstore.

He lowered the paper. "What the hell do you need a job for?"

"Excuse me?" Dawn asked.

"College is for learning. If you work during school, sure, maybe you'll be able to afford a few extra drinks at the pub, but your grades will suffer."

Dawn pried her jaws open enough to speak. "While I appreciate your concern, _sir_ , I'm afraid I don't have much choice. If I don't work, I lose my apartment."

"Your parents won't pay for it?"

"My mom's dead and my dad is who knows where. I haven't seen him in a very long time," Dawn said. "It's just me and my sister."

Dawn knew that Hank and Joyce Summers got married in 1980 and Buffy was born the following January. So Joyce was still alive and would be for another twenty years. But she for the most part would never get to see either Hank or Joyce Summers or tell them how much she had missed them the last two hundred years.

He just nodded. "Well, I guess you would need to work, then."

"So, may I leave?" Dawn asked.

"Come back when you're done."

The interview did not go well. The problem with the interview was Dawn was pretending to be a college student and as a result did not supposedly have lots of experience. She couldn't really tell them she was over two hundred years old now could she and that she had experience in things that would turn their hair gray. So it was back to the newspaper.

After the interview Dawn returned to Danvers's office, and had a chance to knock. As her knuckles grazed the wood, the door creaked open. She called a hello, and then peeked inside. The office was empty. From the door, she could see her paper on a stack of papers. There was a note on it. She slipped inside and picked it up.

Two words. _Dawn_ and _wait._

Dawn's next class wasn't until after lunch. No reason why she couldn't pull out a textbook and study there for ten, fifteen minutes. If he didn't show up by then, she'd leave a note and go.

Dawn had only read two pages when the door banged open.

"Good," he grunted, seeing Dawn there. He tossed an armful of books onto the desk, sending an avalanche of paper to the floor. "You get the job?"

"I don't know yet," Dawn said. "They'll call."

His eyes studied Dawn's. "But you don't think you got it?"

Dawn shrugged. "Probably not. Now, about—"

"Forget the bookstore," he said, thumping down into his desk chair. "I have a job for you."

Dawn hesitated, not sure I'd heard right. "Uh, thank you, but—"

"I need a TA."

Dawn stopped, mouth still open. A teaching assistant position would work. She had wanted to take the anthropology class so as to learn something that would relate to mythology in general and demons in particular. A TA position would give her access to possibly pick Clay's brain.

"I'm not an anthropology student," Dawn said slowly, to try and give him the impression it was not her first choice.

"So?"

"I need to be in this discipline to be a teaching assistant. Isn't that a requirement?" Dawn said.

He brushed Dawn's words aside with a wave. "The school wouldn't be hiring you. I would. I'm a temp, so that's how it works. They hire me, and I hire an assistant if I need one."

"What about grading papers?" Dawn asked. She was more than qualified. Holding a Ph.D. made her more than qualified. But yet she couldn't tell him that. "I'm not qualified for that. And I sure can't teach your classes if you're off sick."

Another wave. "I never get sick. And you won't need to grade essays. I'll just give you the multiple-choice parts of tests. That and … uh, administrative work."

"What kind of administrative work?" Dawn asked.

"You know … departmental … stuff. Whatever I need done."

Dawn cast a pointed look at his desk. "Like filing?"

"Sure. Filing. More important, though, I need research—"

A tentative knock at the door cut him short. He made no move to stand. Another rap. Dawn arched her brows. He shook his head. They stayed quiet until footsteps tapped away down the hall.

"That's another thing you can do," he said. "Handle my office hours. Talk to students."

"They probably want to speak to _you_ ," Dawn said _._ "Especially if they're having problems with the course."

"Oh. Right." He looked so disappointed that Dawn felt a glimmer of empathy.

"I suppose I could screen student visits," Dawn said. "If it's taking papers or answering easy questions, I can handle it. Otherwise, I could have them make appointments, maybe discourage the ones that don't seem too serious."

He smiled then, his eyes lighting up like a kid's. "That'd be great."

Dawn's cheeks heated. "Uh, and research. You were saying something—"

"Right. That's really what I need. I'm working on a paper, and I need someone to do the legwork for me, track down articles, print them up, maybe do some extra digging. You cover all that in journalism, right? Research?"

"Right up my alley," Dawn said. That was one thing she couldn't elaborate on if he had asked. All the research she had ever done was on demons.

"Good. We're all set, then. You can start—"

"Wait," Dawn said. "Can I think about it? I should hear what the bookstore says first."

He rapped his pen against the edge of the desk, then leveled it at Dawn. "What's the pay?" he said.

"Huh?" Dawn asked.

"The bookstore. What are they offering to pay you?"

"Uh, minimum … well, slightly above." Dawn said. "Three fifty an hour."

"How the hell do you live on that? I'll pay you six."

"That's very generous. But wages aren't the only thing I need to consider. Hours are another factor, and you might only need me for five, six hours a week—" Dawn said.

"Hours are negotiable. I need help with this paper, and I want to work on another one after that. How many hours would you need?"

Dawn calculated quickly. "Fifteen, if you're paying six dollars. That would leave me plenty of time to study."

"Fifteen it is, then. When you're busy with school, take less. When things are slow, take more. I'm not running a nine-to-five business. As long as the work gets done, I'm in no hurry."

"Does this mean I get to sit in your class until I get a spot?" Dawn asked.

"Huh?" He frowned. "Oh, right. The class. Hell, yeah. You're in."

Dawn smiled. "Good. About the job, then…when can I start?"


	2. Chapter 2: Teaching Assistant

**Chapter 2: Teaching Assistant**

Dawn paused outside the door of Clay's office. She had called Buffy that evening and told her about the lousy hours at the newspaper. The failed job interview at the bookstore and Clay's offer of hiring her as his teaching assistant. She then asked for her sister's opinion trying to figure out whether or not to take the job. Buffy had listened and told Dawn her opinions on the matter. So Dawn had decided to give it a shot. If it didn't work she could always find another job. It was after all only till the end of the semester when she would be joining Buffy in Toronto.

Dawn knocked and he yanked open the door to see her standing there.

"Dawn, come in," he said. "We have a lot to do."

Dawn stepped inside, shucked off her backpack, and looked around for a place to put it.

"Just toss it wherever," he said.

Dawn nodded and tucked it into the corner, under the empty coatrack. "Is this okay?" she said, tugging at her short-sleeved blouse to straighten it. Dawn didn't really care what the dress code was as long as she didn't have to wear a corset. Even after two hundred years she still hated the torturous clothing. But she wanted to make a good impression so she wanted to make sure he didn't have one. "I wasn't sure if there was, you know, a dress code or something—"

"There isn't. Wear what you like."

"Do you, uh, want me to start filing?" Dawn asked as she turned toward the desk. "Filing? Should I start—"

"No. Not today. Today we have to talk."

Dawn's blue eyes clouded. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no. We just need to talk about your paper. We didn't get time to discuss that yesterday, so I wanted to spend a few minutes on it today."

"Sure." Dawn moved the spare chair over to the desk, sat down, then looked up at him with a faint smile. "So, how badly did I mangle your theory?"

She had only been scheduled to work for two hours that day, and they spent the whole time talking, first about her paper, then shifting into the more general area of his work, his interests, theories, past and current projects.

When her shift ended, she thanked him, not for the stimulating conversation, but for the "background."

When Dawn returned the next day, he let her file. She put his papers into neatly labeled folders. When she saw that his handwriting was somewhat indecipherable. He stuck close by and explained each page to her so she could file it properly.

After that, they had thirty minutes of Dawn's shift left, so he spent it making a semipermanent schedule for her. He took into consideration her course load, extracurricular activities, and study habits, and time for personal endeavors such as calling Buffy. He gave her a flexible schedule with short shifts, sometimes two per day to reach her goal of fifteen hours a week.

"Wow, that's great," Dawn said, reading it over. "This will work out perfectly." She smiled up at him. "Thanks."

The next day he told Dawn about some job changes. Namely the fact she couldn't grade the class she was in. When he finished, she busied herself hanging up her backpack.

"Okay," Dawn said. "That makes sense. I guess I should have known that—"

" _I_ should have known," Clay said.

Dawn smiled. "Not your fault. You're as new at this as I am. So, uh, I guess we'll need to rework that schedule. How many fewer hours—?"

"That won't change. I'll just give you more research work."

"Really?" Dawn asked. "I mean, you don't need to—"

"More time for research means more research I can do. Publish or perish, that's the law of academics. We'll stick to the original schedule, and if you need more hours, just ask."

"Thank you," Dawn said, started to turn away, then stopped. "Oh, and what about your student drop-ins? That's more reception work than teaching assistance, right?"

"It is."

"We're all set then. So—" Dawn said as someone rapped at the door.

He inhaled and scowled.

Dawn pointed at herself, then the door. As if asking if he wanted her to answer it? He nodded. Then she arched her brows and pointed to a spot behind the door, mouthing "Wanna hide?" with lips twitching in a teasing grin. He ducked behind the door and a small laugh escaped Dawn's lips. She then answered the door.

Over the next week, their working relationship hit a comfortable stride. He kept asking her about her personal life. And she kept dodging the questions. He generally backed off though much to her satisfaction.

That evening, Dawn was working on an essay, normally she would have done it back at the apartment but she needed access to some research materials. Dawn leaned back, pen in hand, staring at the paper. Then she shoved the pages into her backpack, threw it over her shoulder, and strode out of the study area.

Dawn always walked back to the apartment with her magical senses wide open. Always searching for possible threats, mainly demons—she and Buffy had made a few enemies in the two hundred years since they had drank from the Fountain of Youth, and some of them lived long enough to hold grudges. That night her magical senses were telling her she was being followed. She stopped to pretend to tie a shoe while she detected the stalkers aura and realized it was Clay who was following her. She debated turning around to face him but continued on instead returning to her apartment.

Ten minutes later she exited her apartment. She was going out to patrol. She carried her slaying clothes in her bag. With Buffy in Toronto and till she joined her sister there she was going to take up Buffy's patrols in New York. She cut through the campus, and then headed west. She passed through the bar and restaurant district without slowing. At least two miles passed before she turned off and onto a hiking path. She ducked behind a building and a moment later stepped out again, the jeans and long-sleeved jersey gone, replaced by shorts and a T-shirt. She looked around the dark, empty park, and then headed for the hiking path. Time to attract a vampire.

Near the head of the trail, Dawn stopped. She scanned her surroundings and tilted her head to listen. She took out a stake from her backpack, and tucked the bag beneath some undergrowth. When she straightened, she gave another long, careful look around. She cupped the stake in her palm, walked to the head of the trail, and began her warm-up exercises.

When she finally stopped her stretches, she looked around one last time, then faced the trail, took a deep breath, and vaulted forward, off and running.

Something tripped her magical senses and she stopped. She could sense something was out there. She held her stake out. Her gaze traveled over both sides of the path, searching the shadows. She cocked her head, listening. Was her magical senses playing at her. She could feel it was there. Not entirely human which meant any manner or supernatural creature. Unless one attacked her she would leave it alone.

Dawn looked around, a casual sweep of the forest. She checked her watch. Her nose scrunched up, head tilted, as if considering something. Then she strode off the path. A few feet from the tree line, she lowered herself onto the ground beside a boulder. _"Stupid vampires,"_ Dawn thought to herself. She would give them a few minutes to try and come after the tasty morsel waiting unprotected before she would give up.

The next day Dawn went to work. Everything was as pleasant as could be. But then he tried turning the conversation away from the paper she was researching, she steered it right back on track. Then Clay slapped the stack of quizzes down onto the desk. "Do you run?" he said.

"Do I what?" Dawn asked after several long seconds of silence. She had been right he had followed her home and then apparently to the park when she went on patrol. It was probably him that she had sensed in the park. She opened her magical senses and tried to sense him, he was human.

"Run. You know, jog, run, whatever," Clay said as Dawn stared at him. "Running is good. A good hobby—sport. A good sport. Good for you."

Dawn's lips twitched. "Uh-huh."

"Well, it is, right? Gets you outside, in the fresh air, exercising. All good."

The phone rang. As he lifted the receiver, she shook her head and smiled. She would play his game; see how far it got her. Find out why he had followed her.

"Hello?" a woman's voice said on the other end of the line.

He started to hang up, but she spoke again, louder. Dawn motioned at the phone, wondering if there was anyone there. He lifted the phone to his ear. "What?"

Dawn sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Is Dawn Michaels there?" the woman asked.

"No."

"This is her sister. It's an emergency."

He passed the phone to Dawn. "Hello?" Dawn asked. "Buffy what is it?"

Dawn listened to the pause. "It's nothing Dawn, sorry I …"

"Buffy," Dawn said. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Buffy said. "It's nothing.

And Buffy hung up before Dawn could say another word.

"I am so sorry," Dawn said as she turned to Professor Danvers. "My sister must be missing me more than I thought."

"You two are close?"

"We didn't use to be," Dawn said. "But nowadays, yes. We only have each other."

"Of course," he said. "Family means a lot to you."

"Yes," Dawn said. "I'm probably going to head to Toronto after my last class on Friday if you can spare me. To make sure everything is okay."

"Of course," he said. "That's not a problem. So. Running."

Dawn frowned as she remembered he had followed her the night before. Then she plastered a smiled on her lips. "Ah, right. Running. It's good."

Professor Danvers hoisted himself onto the desktop. "It is, and the reason I was asking is that I run, but I can't seem to find a decent track around here. So I thought, even if you don't run, you might be able to recommend a spot for me."

Dawn took her seat. "Well, I do. Run, that is. There are a few good places around here. It depends on whether you like the street or the beach or—"

"Where do you run?"

"Uh, well, that depends. Usually in a park—" Dawn said.

"Good. I'll go with you, then."

Dawn stared at him. _"Not good. Not good. If he follows me on one of my patrols he might get bitten,"_ she thought.

"I'm not sure that's such a …" Dawn said.

"You like to run alone?" Professor Danvers said. "That's fine. Me, I like company. Back at home, no problem, but here …?" He shrugged. "Not a lot of running buddies to pick from."

Dawn smiled. "I'm sure I could find one for you. I'll make an announcement at the next class and—"

"I want someone to run with, not from."

Dawn laughed.

"Now, this park you mentioned. Maybe you can show it to me sometime, or draw me a map."

Dawn hesitated and then she sighed. He was going to probably go running anyways. If she was with him maybe she could protect him. "I don't mind company, I guess. Sure, I'll take you there, show you the trails. I usually run at night, but—"

"Night's fine."

"The park's actually closed after dark. That's one reason I go there. It's very quiet, and I usually have the whole place to myself. Technically, of course, I am trespassing," Dawn said.

"So if we hear sirens, we run faster."

Dawn smiled. "Exactly."

"I'll go with you next time, then. So when's that? Tonight?"

"Next week," Dawn said. ""Would be better."

They spent the rest of Dawn's shift talking. The next day, Dawn headed to Toronto.

Buffy was alright just had been missing Dawn was all. So they spent the weekend together before Dawn returned to New York on Sunday.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

As Dawn walked through the doors of Rufus D. Smith Hall, she quickened her pace and surveyed the rapidly filling corridor.

"Dawn!"

A dark-haired young woman pushed past a group loitering outside an open classroom door.

"Hey, Jody," Dawn said, stopping.

"Hey, yourself. You didn't call when you got in last night. I was hoping we could grab coffee. So how was your weekend?"

"Good. And yours?"

"I survived." She stepped closer, moving out of the lane of foot traffic. "So, what'd you do? Visit your sister?"

Dawn smiled. "Yeah, she called Thursday and I took off to see if everything was alright. She was fine."

They chatted for another couple of minutes. After talking to Jody, Dawn was running late for class. By the time she swung through the door, the room was nearly full. Clay was at the front, sorting papers. She paused, expecting him to look up. He kept working. Dawn swung past the desk. He lifted his head, but he didn't meet her gaze, let alone sneak her a smile.

As Dawn took her seat, he began the lecture. He began passing out papers, handing them down the rows. He gave her one, and then passed the rest to the person beside her, his gaze never dropping within a foot of her head.

Ever since Jack had died over two hundred years ago. Dawn had adopted the police of get some and gone. She didn't want to form attachments when she would have to watch them die. But with Clay she was beginning to feel what she had for Jack. And she found it disappointing that he wasn't looking at her.

Dawn took her sheet. Instructions for an assignment … with a handwritten line, dark against the faded copy.

 _How was your weekend? Your sister okay?_

Dawn looked up just as he was heading back down the middle row. As he passed her, he glanced over, brows lifting. Dawn grinned, and his smile broke through before he turned away.

A second page followed the first, this one a list of possible topics. Again, hers came with an extra note.

 _Run tonight?_

Dawn laughed, startling her neighbor, then stuffed the pages into her binder. As Clayton stepped up to the lectern, his gaze shot her way, brows arched, expecting an answer. Dawn bit back a smile and pretended not to notice…just as she pretended not to notice the glower that followed when he realized she wasn't going to respond.

When class ended, Dawn took a few minutes to tidy her notes, waiting for the room to empty. By now students rarely lingered to ask more than a quick question, having learned that anything else only earned them a scowl.

As the last students filed out, Dawn slipped from her seat. Clayton had his back to her, gathering his papers from the table.

"So?" he said, without turning.

"Passing notes in class? Isn't that a no-no?" Dawn asked.

"Only for students."

"Still, you'd better be careful," Dawn said. "Hand that to the wrong person and you'll get yourself in trouble."

"Which is why I passed it directly to you." He leaned against the lectern. "So? Can you run tonight?"

"Hmm, no. Sorry. But I could pencil you in for three weeks from Thursday," Dawn said.

"Watch it or you'll find yourself joining the ranks of the unemployed."

"There are laws against that," Dawn said.

"So?"

Dawn swung her knapsack onto her shoulder. "Tonight is fine. I'm meeting friends for dinner, but I should be done by seven-thirty. How about I meet you in front of the ROM at eight?"

He agreed, and Dawn left.

It was a cold night for October, single-digit temperatures with a wicked north wind blowing in, reminding the unwary that it wasn't too soon for a blast of early snow. When Dawn arrived at the museum, she was ready to head back to her apartment and dig up her winter coat, but once they started the long walk, talking as they went, she forgot the cold.

"Change facilities are a problem," Dawn said as they entered the park. "The washrooms are locked, so I usually slip into the woods. Hardly decorous but—"

"Whatever works, I never see what the big deal is anyway. Someone sees a flash of bare skin, what are they going to do, run away screaming?"

Dawn laughed. "I'd hope not. But if the flashing involves certain sections of skin, they'll run screaming to the nearest cop. On a night like tonight, though, I'd be more worried about frostbite than unintentional flashing."

"You want me to break into a bathroom for you?"

Dawn glanced over, wondering whether he was joking. She shook her head. "Thanks but no. I run year-round, so I've learned the art of speed-changing. If we head around that pavilion, we should be out of the wind."

So they did, each finding a place in the woods to change into their running clothes. Dawn glanced around as she changed. She pulled the stake from her bag and hid it a carefully concealed holster in the waistband of her sweats. She hadn't used the holster since her first patrol after Buffy left for Toronto. They had designed the holster so that they could hide their stakes when in a crowd. Since there was no crowd in the park, Dawn eventually stopped using it. But tonight she had brought it so she could hide the stake from Clay. She just hoped no vampires attacked that night.

When Dawn stepped out of the woods, he was already there, and she quickly realized one _disadvantage_ to being with a guy as good-looking as Clay. The gape factor. In the last few weeks, she'd become less aware of his looks. As he stepped out in a tank top and shorts, she became keenly aware that, as nice as the picture had been with his baggy clothes, she'd been missing half of it. She tried not to look. Failing that, she tried not to stare.

As much as Dawn liked the solitude of running alone, especially when she was out patrolling, there's something to be said for having company of the right sort. Preferably someone who can keep up a light chatter and keep up the pace. Clay managed both easily, and they were back where they started before she knew it.

They had been discussing movies what they did and didn't like. He had mentioned seeing some romance comedy, saying he hadn't liked it.

"A chick flick," Dawn said.

"Huh?" Clayton said.

Dawn inwardly groaned. She forgot the term chick flick wouldn't be commonly used for several more years. "A film aimed at the female portion of the moviegoing public."

"Oh." He peered over at her. "You like those kind of movies?"

"No, I'm saying that's who they're _made_ for. Not that every woman likes them, no more than every guy likes movies where stuff blows up," Dawn said. Once upon a time she had like to watch chick flicks. But after a hundred years of watching movies she got tired of them.

"What kind do you like?"

Dawn grinned. "The ones where stuff blows up."

"We should go to a movie, then."

Dawn glanced over at him, but already knew what she'd see. No hint that this was anything other than a friendly suggestion. "Sure," she said. "We should do that someday."

"How about Friday?"

Dawn laughed. "I said _someday._ " A pause, then she glanced over at him. "Maybe Saturday."

"Saturday, then. Any idea what's play—"

He stopped. As Dawn took another step, his fingertips brushed her arm, and she looked back to see him still standing there. He motioned for her to stop and scanned the grassy hill leading to the pavilion. "Someone's here," he murmured.

"Oh?" Dawn opened her magical senses searching for what he saw. She found what he had over by the parking lot. For good measure she squinted into the darkness, pretending not to have found the guy. "Where?"

"Over by the parking lot. You go get changed. I'll wait."

When Dawn came out, he was standing by the pavilion, watching the distant parking lot.

"Still there?" Dawn asked trying to play the innocent card. Her magical senses had told her the guy had left and came back several times.

"There _again._ He left a couple times, but keeps coming back. Like he's waiting for someone," Clay said.

"Probably is. Get dressed, then. I'll stay here," Dawn said.

Dawn ducked behind the pavilion wall, keeping out of sight of the mysterious man. No need to advertise her presence. She didn't need to see him as long as she kept her magical senses open.

A moment later, the man appeared, walking along the path beside the pavilion. He didn't see her, and Dawn only caught a glimpse of his back as he passed. He reached the end of the path, and then headed back. "Dawn!" he called, grinning as he broke into a jog.

Dawn frowned. Someone who knew her by name. Only people from the University and a few of the undead who heard Buffy calling her name on patrols knew her name. She snaked her hand for her stake. Then her magical senses told her who it was. She had a problem with a stalker of an ex-boyfriend who hadn't agreed with her get some and gone philosophy.

"There you are. You're a hard girl to find."


	3. Chapter 3: Ex-Boyfriend

**Chapter 3: Ex-Boyfriend**

"What are you doing here, Jason?" Dawn asked.

"I should be asking you that." He walked over to her. "What are you thinking? Jogging in a park at night? Who the hell does crazy stuff like this? It's not—"

"Normal?" Dawn said.

"I didn't mean it like that." He stepped forward, hand rising to brush a stray wisp of hair off her cheek. "You know I didn't."

Dawn backpedaled out of his reach. His gaze dropped in that wounded look, as if he was the victim here, the poor besotted guy under the spell of the evil ice bitch.

"I'm not canceling the restraining order," Dawn said as she remembered the messages Jason's mother had left on her answering machine. "So you can tell your mother to stop calling me."

"Ah, shit. Is she—?" He smacked his palm against the pavilion wall. "Goddamn her! Why does she always do this to me? You were right to get that."

"Don't," Dawn said.

"No, I deserved it. I got carried away. I couldn't help myself. You weren't returning my calls. You wouldn't see me. I got confused—"

"Confused?" Dawn said. "What the hell is confusing about the word _no_?"

The wounded look again. "You don't have to swear, baby."

"I am not your _baby._ " Dawn said. "I have never been your _baby._ I have never been your _anything._ "

"I know that. But I couldn't help it. You were so—"

"Flattered? I wasn't flattered then. I'm not flattered now. And I want you to get the hell out of my life before I do something that is really _not normal._ "

"You're upset, baby. I understand that. My mother pisses me off, too, so I don't blame you one bit."

Dawn debated grabbing him and teleporting him into a volcano. That would end her stalker problem. But she didn't. She spun on her heel and strode away. Got about ten feet before his hand closed on her shoulder.

"Let me go," Dawn said, voice low, back still to him.

"No, Dawn. Not until you've calmed down."

Dawn jerked forward, but his grip only tightened, fingers digging into her shoulder. She flung his hand off. His jaw set. Dawn stood her ground. He stepped forward, closing the gap between them.

"You don't want to do that," drawled a voice to their left.

Dawn looked to see Clay in the shadow of a pine tree, arms crossed, as if he'd been there for a while.

"I can handle this," Dawn said. "Go home, Jason or I'm walking to the nearest phone booth, dialing 911, and seeing how well that restraining order works."

The perfect threat—calm yet clear. But Jason had not heard a single word of it. Before she was half finished, he was striding toward Clay.

"Who the hell are you?" Jason said.

"An interested party."

"Interested in what?" Jason swung to face Dawn. "Is this guy with you, Dawn?"

"Could be," Clayton answered before Dawn could. "Or I could be just a fellow jogger, heard the ruckus, and came over to see if I could help. Or maybe I'm not a jogger at all. Maybe I just like hanging out in empty parks, see what kind of sludge crawls out of the pond after dark—" He grinned, teeth flashing. "See what kind of trouble I can get into."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Not a damn thing. Now, I think Dawn was talking to you, and I think you'd better start listening."

Jason stalked over to Clay and pulled himself up, eye to eye. "Or what?"

Clayton only shrugged. "You'd have to ask her that."

Jason looked from Clay to Dawn, face scrunched up in confusion. "Who is this guy?"

"An interested party," Clayton said.

Jason's finger shot up, pointing in Clay's face. "Don't you start—"

Clayton grabbed his finger. Dawn tensed, but he only held Jason's finger, then pushed it slowly down. "Lift that hand to me again, and you'd better be prepared to use it. Now go on back to Dawn. This is her fight, and I'm not making it mine unless you insist."

Jason looked from Dawn to Clay. He paused, then stalked off, calling over his shoulder a promise that he'd talk to Dawn later.

Dawn knew the only way to get rid of Jason was to change identities like she and Buffy had planned with the move to Toronto.

"You want to go get something?"

Dawn wheeled to see Clay at her shoulder. She hadn't seen him move from his place by the trees. "Hmm?" she said.

"You want to go get something? I'm sure I can find a place on the way back."

Dawn shook her head. "No. Thanks, but I'm really not …" she shrugged.

"Not hungry?"

"Eat? Oh. I thought you meant a drink," Dawn said.

"We could get a drink, if that's what you'd like," he said.

"Definitely not. I rarely ever drink anything stronger than a soda. Ever since my sister got drunk during her first year of college and almost literally turned into a cavewoman. I've stayed away from alcohol since then. But something to eat would be good." Dawn forced a smile. "Vent my frustration on a hapless burger."

"Good. Grab your knapsack and we'll go."

They walked down out of the park in silence. Clay found an all-night diner. He started toward a table in the back corner, and then glanced over his shoulder. "There okay?" he said, jerking his chin toward the table.

"Perfect," Dawn said as they settled into their seats.

"Burgers page three," he said after a glance through the menu.

"On second thought, I may change my mind. They serve all-day breakfast." Dawn skimmed through the grease-spattered menu. "I think I might go for pancakes. Weird, I know, but—"

"Have what you like."

"Comfort food. Does the trick better than alcohol," Dawn said.

The server arrived, coffee pot in hand.

"No, thanks," Dawn said, covering her cup. "Too late for caffeine. I think I'll have …" she flipped to the back of the menu, and then smiled. "Root beer floats. Haven't had those in years. I'll take one. And the pancakes and ham steak."

The server peered over her half-glasses. "With a root beer float?"

"Same here," Clayton said, smacking down his menu. "Pancakes, ham, and a root beer float."

The server rolled her eyes and left mumbling about college kids.

"You like root beer floats?" Dawn asked.

"Never had one."

Dawn stifled a laugh. "Well, I'm not sure how well it'll go with maple syrup, but we're about to find out." She glanced around the diner. The few other customers were all across the room. "I should have said it earlier, but thanks for trying to help back there. At the park. I didn't mean to snap at you."

"You wanted to handle it yourself. Nothing wrong with that."

"Again, thanks." Dawn glanced back at him. "You confused him, and that's probably the best way to get rid of Jason. At least till I join Buffy in Toronto."

"Not too bright, is he?"

Dawn laughed and eased back in the booth. "No, not too bright, though I'm pretty sure he can't be as dense as he acts. It's just an excuse: Pretend we're still together. When were obviously not."

"So you and he …"

"Yeah," Dawn said. "We were together once. But then I found out what he and his mother were both like. Broke it off."

"But he keeps following you? What's it been now? One, two years?"

"Two. I don't know what his problem is. He doesn't have a problem getting dates with willing girls. Or so he said. So why me?" Dawn said.

"Because you're not willing. Buddy of mine is like that. Not like _that_ —stalking and shit. But if you put him at a party with ten girls, and nine of them are falling over him, he'll make a beeline for number ten, spend the night trying to charm her."

Dawn nodded. "The thrill of the hunt."

"I guess so. He likes the challenge. 'Course, if she tells him to get lost, he does."

"Most guys do," Dawn said. "A chase is fine, but if she fights when cornered, they back off."

Just then their floats arrived. Clayton waited until the server left.

"Has he ever hurt you?" he asked.

Dawn shrugged. "Not really. He sometimes grabs me, like he did in the park. Leaves bruises, but not the 'fear for my life' kind of hurting."

Clayton's jaw worked, and he dropped his gaze, but not before Dawn saw a flash of rage there, so intense it startled her. She had never seen that much rage from anyone except Buffy over her.

"That's bad enough," he said. "You can't let him do that or it'll only get worse."

Dawn's head jerked up. "You think I'm _letting_ him—"

"No." He reached out and, for a second, Dawn thought he was going to put his hand on hers. At the last moment, he plucked a napkin from the dispenser. "I didn't mean it like that. The problem is, the harder you fight, the harder he's going to pursue. You can't give in, and you can't fight back, so you're stuck."

"So I've noticed," Dawn said.

He crumpled the napkin. Then he looked at Dawn. "I could fix this for you. Make sure he doesn't come back. Not kill him—if he isn't threatening _your_ life, then that isn't necessary. But I could make damn sure he never wants to see your face again."

Dawn shook her head. "Thanks, but I still want to try handling it on my own. Besides what is he going to do? Follow me to Toronto?"

"If you change your mind, you let me know."

"I will," Dawn said.

Clay walked her back to her apartment. Luckily Jason wasn't there. Nor did he make good on his "promise" to talk to her later.

Clay and Dawn did go to see a movie that weekend. Had a good time, too, though by now she'd come to expect that. Over the next few weeks, they saw a couple more movies, went out for a few meals, and jogged together almost every other day.

After that night in the diner, Dawn started opening up. At least giving him the rehearsed version of hers and Buffy's history.

As October drew to a close, Dawn became increasingly aware of Clayton's imminent return to Syracuse. They hadn't discussed that. Maybe there was nothing to discuss. His term would come to an end, he'd hand Dawn her final paycheck with a "Nice to know you," and that'd be it.

Dawn held out as long as she could, until exactly two weeks before he was due to leave. She showed up at work to find the office empty. With no note. For a few seconds, she stood by the desk in shock, wondering if he was already gone. Silly, she knew, but he was always there when she arrived for her shift. If he couldn't be, he left a note, telling her he was gone—as if she couldn't see that for herself—and telling her to wait—as if she might take his absence as an opportunity to snag a day off.

So when there was no note, Dawn kind of panicked. Then she saw that his books were still on the shelf. He might leave papers and old journals scattered all over the office when he finally did vacate it, but he'd never abandon his books.

Dawn sat down and started to work. Less than ten minutes later, the door banged open.

"I hope that's not your résumé you're typing," he said as he tossed a file folder onto the desk.

"Not without your permission," Dawn said.

"Good, 'cause I don't give it. You may not revise your résumé."

"I meant I'd need your permission to use your typewriter, not to write the résumé. That I don't need," Dawn said.

"And you need it to use my typewriter? Why? I might complain about you using up the ribbon? Hell, I have a box of them." He dropped into his chair and spun it to face Dawn. "But, back to the original subject, you do not have my permission to revise your résumé. I expressly forbid it."

"Uh-huh. Well, that's great, but I do need a job—" Dawn said.

"You have one."

" _After_ you leave," Dawn said.

"Not leaving."

"What?" Dawn asked.

"Is that disappointment I hear?" He bounced off the chair and scooted his rear onto the desk. "Too bad, 'cause I'm not leaving. The university likes the research paper we're working on, and they want me to finish it here, so they can slap their name on it. Plus Dr. Fromme wants me to keep teaching his fourth-year class. Meaning you're stuck with me until the end of the term."

"Damn," Dawn said.

"Damn?"

"Well, see, there's this other job. Better working conditions. Less demanding boss—" Dawn said.

"You'd better be kidding, because I just went through a helluva lot of work to make sure you kept your job."

"Oh, so you did it for _me,_ " Dawn said.

"Of course. You need a job." He jumped off the desk and headed for the door. "So get back to work and earn your keep. I have to meet with Fromme. It might take a while, but I'll be back by lunch, so wait for me." He threw a grin over his shoulder. "You're buying, too. A token of appreciation for your continued employment."

He zipped out the door before Dawn could answer. She sat there, smiling, and then turned back to the typewriter.

At ten, she decided to go grab a coffee. Dawn was pushing the office door when it flew open, nearly sending her into the wall.

"Thanks a helluva—" Dawn began, and then stopped, cheeks heating.

In the doorway stood, not Clay, but one of his students. A guy about Dawn's apparent age with short dreadlocks and an easy grin.

"Sorry about that," he said. "Is Clay—Professor Danvers here? This is his office, right?" A glance over at the paper-littered desk and the grin returned. "Oh, yeah. This is definitely his office."

"You must be in his fourth-year class," Dawn said. "I'm Dawn, his TA."

His brows arched. "TA?"

"Well, TA, receptionist, typist, research assistant. All-round girl Friday, pretty much." Dawn waved at the office. "Housekeeping not included."

As he laughed, Dawn unearthed a pen.

"Professor Danvers has office hours tomorrow, but you can leave a note for him, or I can pencil you in for an appointment."

"Sure, you can pencil me in for an appointment, but will he _keep_ the appointment? That is the question."

Dawn smiled. "Yes, he _does_ keep them. I make sure of that. So can I schedule—?"

"Actually, I'm not a student. I'm a friend of his."

"Oh?" Dawn asked.

"Yes, Clayton has friends. Shocking, isn't it?"

"I didn't mean—" Dawn said.

"No?" He met my gaze, grinning. "Oh, come on. Admit it. _Friends_ and _Clay_ are not words that go together."

"Okay, I was a little surprised. Not that I didn't know he had friends. I just haven't met any of them. And, now that you mention it, I'm going to hazard a guess that you're Logan," Dawn said.

The grin fell away. "Uh, yeah. He's mentioned me?"

Dawn smiled. "Now you're the one who sounds surprised."

"I am. Not that I'm not perfectly mentionable, but Clay doesn't usually talk about his personal life. Huh. Well—" He looked around. "So what kind of— Oh, wait, you were going somewhere when I rudely barged in, weren't you?"

"Just to grab a coffee," Dawn said.

"Perfect. I could use one…and I have no clue where to find it here. Mind if I tag along?"

"Sure. Or I could bring you back one—" Dawn said.

"I've just spent six hours in the car. Please don't ask me to sit and wait."

Dawn smiled. "I won't, then. Come on."

After they got their coffees, Logan persuaded Dawn to sit in the cafeteria. Logan was one of those people with the gift for making you feel, almost from the first word, that you've known him for years. So they sat and talked, mostly about school. He was also in his third year, at Northwestern, which gave them plenty of common ground.

"You live on campus or off?" he asked halfway through our coffees.

"Off. My sister and I have an apartment," Dawn said.

"Same here. And I bet I know the reason you live with your sister. DMFH, right?"

"Hmm?" Dawn asked.

"DMFH. Dorm mate from hell. There's gotta be a better acronym, but that's the best I could come up with on the fly. So how bad was yours?"

"I've never lived in the dorms," Dawn said. "Buffy and I always shared the apartment. Ever since our parents died and she had to raise me by herself."

"Oh," Logan said. "Sorry to hear that, about your parents I mean."

"Thanks." Dawn smiled. "It was a long time ago. I've since had time to grieve and move on with my life."

"So you're a serious student, right? Obviously, if you're a TA. You work your ass off because that's what college is for—learning and getting a job, not an all-expense-paid party tour."

"Sometimes I wish it was," Dawn said. She and Buffy had a tidy amount of cash saved up. After all what else did they have to spend the money on over the course of the last two hundred years. It was how Dawn kept going to college every twenty years or so. The money was used primarily for that so they both got jobs to make it last and used the jobs for paying the bills.

"But it isn't. Especially if you're paying your own way. You are, I'll bet. Otherwise, you sure as hell wouldn't take a job with Clay."

Dawn smiled. "Actually I got a trust that pays for college. I took the job to pay for living expenses."

"Me, too. Well, someone's helping me, but I have every intention of paying him back. Point is that we've paid for this education, and we're damned well going to get the most out of it. So we're guaranteed to get dorm mates who don't give a shit, who stay up all night, expect us to get up quietly in the morning, blast music while we're trying to study, give their friends the room key…. Happens to me every year."

"Wish I could say, same here. While Buffy does tend to get on my nerves from time to time. She's not that bad. She wants me to go to college. Get my degree. She had to drop out when our parents died. So she never got the chance to finish. So she wants to make sure the same thing doesn't happen to me. Makes sure I have quiet for my studies."

"That's good," said Logan. "Wish I had that kind of dorm mate."

A flash of motion across the cafeteria caught Dawn's eye. Dawn looked to see Clayton barreling toward them, eyes blazing, mouth set in a grim line.

"Looks like Clay got my note," Dawn said. "But I don't think his meeting went very well."

Logan glanced over and grimaced. "No, I do believe that scowl is intended for me." He looked around. "Think it's too late for a speedy escape?"

"'Fraid so," Dawn said.

"Damn. Hold on, then. I'm about to get blasted."


	4. Chapter 4: Date

**Chapter 4: Date**

Clay strode to the table.

"Clayton," Logan said, smiling up at him. "About time you—"

"I want to talk to you."

"Well, then, you're in luck, because that's what we were doing. Talking." With his foot, he pushed out a chair—the one on the far side of the table. "Dawn and I were just about to swap roommate horror stories. Did you ever get a bad one?"

Dawn grinned up at Clay. "Or were you the bad one?"

"I want to talk to you," Clay said. "In private."

Dawn pushed her chair back. "You guys don't need me hanging around. I should get back to work—"

"No," Clay said, touching her elbow as she started standing. "You stay. Finish your coffee. I just want to talk to Logan for a minute."

Dawn hesitated.

"Stay," Clay said. "I can talk to Logan later."

Dawn hesitated another moment, studying his face, then sat down, and pulled out the chair beside hers. Clay took it.

They spent the next hour talking. Logan did most of it. Dawn always managed to bring it back to a three-way conversation. After the first half-hour, Dawn noticed as Clay started watching the clock.

At 11:45, Clay cut Logan short. "Dawn? We have to get lunch or you'll be late for your next class. Logan? There's food here, food on north side of campus, and food back in my apartment. I'll meet up with you at my office later." Clay took his keys from his pocket. "You want these?"

Dawn looked at Clay, brow knitting, and she knew she'd committed some social misdemeanor. She glanced at Logan for a clue, but he rubbed at a smile and avoided her gaze.

"I'm sure you want to eat with Logan," Dawn said.

"Not really."

Logan choked on a laugh. "And you wonder why you've never met any of his friends before?"

Clay glared over at him. "If you'd called or otherwise told me you were coming, I'd have left lunch free. But I have plans. I'm buying Dawn lunch to celebrate her continued employment."

"I thought I had to buy lunch," Dawn said.

"I was kidding."

"Good," Logan said. "'Cause you'd put the poor girl in hock. Have you seen how much he eats?"

"I have," Dawn said. "Which is why I'd planned to take him to McDonald's."

"Well, consider yourself saved from that fate, 'cause I'm buying," Logan said. "You're the townie, Dawn, so you pick the place. My mom sent me a check this week, which is how I could afford the gas money to get up here. Every few months she remembers she has a son and sends guilt money, some of which I promptly blow on the most frivolous, unnecessary expenses I can find. That way, neither of us feels guilty about it."

Dawn laughed.

"Shall we go?" Logan said, grabbing Dawn's empty coffee cup. "What time's your class?"

"One-thirty," Dawn said.

"Lots of time, then. Is it journalism?"

Dawn nodded. "Advanced interviewing techniques."

"Oooh, could use some of those in my prelaw course. I'll sit in on it with you."

"You can't do that," Clay said. "It's against the rules."

"Words we never thought we'd hear Clayton Danvers say," Logan said. "Profs don't care if you sit in—not if you ask them first and ask nicely. If I get in shit, I promise not to mention your name. Now come on. I have fifty bucks burning a hole in my pocket, and I intend to have it gone by one-thirty."

After Dawn's class, she returned to finish her shift. Not that she got much work done, between answering Logan's endless questions about hers and Clay's project and arguing with Clay over the interpretation of data.

At five-thirty, Dawn left for dinner. Logan tried to persuade her to join them, but she insisted she had enough homework to last her into the night.

That night, Dawn and Clay went for a run. Afterward, they found a grassy spot overlooking the water and ate the subs and sodas they'd brought along.

"So you like Logan?" Clay asked.

"Sure. He's a nice guy." Dawn smiled. "Easy to get along with, you know?"

"So you like him."

"Didn't I just say—?" Dawn caught his expression and choked on a mouthful of sandwich. "Not like _that._ Is that what it seemed like? I hope he didn't think—"

"He didn't."

"Good." Dawn leaned back against a tree trunk. "That's the problem sometimes. You meet a guy, and think he's nice, but you need to worry about how that will be interpreted. Sometimes I'm interested because I'm, well, interested. Most times, though, it's just because I think he's nice."

Not that Dawn was interested that much. Sure she went out with guys. But mostly she was leading them on. She didn't stay with a guy long enough anymore to be truly interested. She didn't want to have to watch someone she had fallen for die. But when it came to Clay he had a way of slipping through her barriers. And she couldn't help being interested in him.

Clay looked across the water, then over at Dawn. "And what about me?"

"Do I think _you're_ nice?" Dawn said. "Yes. In your own way, I think you're pretty nice."

Clay leaned over, and his mouth found hers before they even realized what they were doing. And Dawn kissed back. He pulled back. "Shit, I'm sorry."

Dawn blinked. "S—sorry?"

"I didn't mean— If this isn't what you want—"

Dawn leaned over and kissed him, her arms going around her neck. She knew she shouldn't, not this close to when she and Buffy were changing identities. But she couldn't help herself as she felt him kiss her back. A few minutes later, she eased out of his arms and smiled. "And that, I hope, clears up any confusion."

"It does."

Dawn smiled. "It does, doesn't it? I wasn't sure myself, but—" She looked up at him. "I think I've figured it out."

Someone laughed and they both jumped. Dawn stretched out her magical senses. Several kids were approaching, and their auras said they were drunk.

"Kids coming," Clay said. "You wanna head back to my apartment?"

"No …" Dawn said as she thought he would want to…

"No, not for sex. I just want—" Clay shrugged. "You know, to spend more time with you."

"Me, too. I mean with you, not with me. I like spending time—I'd like to spend more time—" Dawn pulled a face. "Blah. I think my tongue's gone on vacation."

"Is that a yes, then? Head back to my apartment and hang out there awhile? No strings attached. I'd tell you if there were."

"Like 'Hey, do you want to go back to my apartment for sex?'" Dawn said.

"Exactly."

Dawn laughed. "You probably would, too."

For a moment, Dawn just looked at him. What was she doing? She knew she shouldn't get too attached. But yet she wanted to spend time with him, get to know him, and yes maybe fall in love again. She pushed to her feet and brushed herself off. Clay followed her to the path.

The next month spun past like a carousel ride. New emotions, new sensations, new thoughts, everything so blindingly new, a merry-go-round of first love, all bright colors and laughter and music and, occasionally, a slightly queasy feeling, as if it was all just a little too much to take.

It wasn't perfect, but the flaws kept it real. Of course, that didn't keep Dawn from worrying about them, especially with the rapidly approaching date of the identity change and move to Toronto.

First, Clay was possessive. Maybe that's not the right word. More like he was jealous of my time. He liked being together. A lot. If Dawn wasn't in class or in her apartment sleeping, he wanted to be with her.

Another sign he did not want her to spend time with her friends, not that she truly had many. Like when it came to boyfriends and lovers. Dawn kept friends at a distance. So she only had a handful, the ones willing to get past her barriers.

Clay kept their relationship a secret from his family and friends just as Dawn had kept it from Buffy. While they didn't say why they hid it from their families and friends to each other. They both knew there was something that they weren't telling each other also.

They had their first rough spot right after his next trip home. He'd called Dawn five times that weekend. The first time, from the airport in Syracuse, he'd sounded fine, bitching about the flight, normal Clay stuff. The next two calls had been furtive and short. She could picture him in some back room, whispering for fear of being overheard, and she'd started getting angry, wondering why he'd bothered calling at all.

The next call was clipped, almost angry, as if she'd done something to piss him off. She'd blasted him for that. Dawn told him he was under no obligation to call her when he was away and if this was how he was going to act when he did call, she'd rather he didn't. Then she hung up.

Two hours later he'd called back—from a pay phone, judging by the background street noise. He'd talked then, talked and talked, as if desperate to keep Dawn on the line.

None of it made any sense and by the time he returned, Dawn's gut was twisting, her brain feeding her all those little warnings she tried so hard not to hear, telling her something was wrong, wrong with them and wrong with him, and why the hell wasn't she taking the hint? She had even turned off her magical senses when it came to Clay.

Dawn didn't sleep much Sunday night, and barely heard a word the prof said in her first class Monday. She spent the whole period glancing at her watch. When class ended, she was the first one out the door. She zipped over to Clay's office. Only when she could see his door did she slow down. It was cracked open, as it always was when he was expecting her.

Dawn stepped inside and he was across the room, leaning over the typewriter, fiddling with the keys. Even when she closed the door with a loud click, he didn't turn. "Jamming on you again?" Dawn said, forcing the disappointment from her voice. "Here, let me—"

"I got in last night," he said, still bent over the machine.

Dawn stopped. "Well, that's good. That's when you were supposed to get in, wasn't it?"

"I thought you'd come to see me."

"When? Your flight didn't arrive until two," Dawn said.

He said nothing, just kept playing with the typewriter.

Dawn gripped her backpack, knuckles whitening as the trepidation in her gut hardened into anger. "I had an eight o'clock class," she said. "You expected me to meet your plane at two A.M.?"

He turned and rubbed his mouth. "Yeah, I guess not. I'm sor—"

"And even if I didn't have an early class, how the hell would I get to the airport? Pay twenty bucks for a cab?" Dawn said.

"I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry."

He stepped toward Dawn, but she backpedaled, lifting her backpack to her chest as her mind suddenly flipped through a myriad of barrier spells. He looked down at the backpack, then up at her.

"I didn't expect you to meet me at the airport," he said. "I just— I wanted to see you. If I didn't make plans, like meeting you for breakfast, then that's my fault."

Dawn let the backpack slide down. He crossed the few feet between them, arms going around her.

"I missed you," he said.

Dawn lifted her mouth to his. The moment their lips touched, it was like a dam breaking and he grabbed her, kissing her hard, pushing her back against the bookcase. When she tensed, he pulled back, breathing ragged, gaze searching hers.

"I missed you, too," Dawn said as she lifted her hands to the back of his head and kissed him.

"I'm sorry," he said. "This weekend. It was just…I don't know."

"Did something happen?" Dawn asked.

"No. It's … I had a rough time. I wanted to be there, but I wanted to be here, too."

Dawn took his hand and walked to the desk, and backed her rear onto it. He did the same, then shifted against her, forearm resting on her leg, hand on her knee. "You've never been away this long, have you?" she said. "From home, I mean."

"I guess that's part of it. I'm happy here, but when I go back, I'm reminded that I miss being there, and at the same time I miss you." He shook his head. "It'll work out. I'm doing okay. Better than usual. When I was away at college, I hated it. Loved the education part, the classes and all that, but once my day was over, I'd just pace in my dorm room, going nuts, wishing I was home."

Dawn smiled. "See? You _were_ the dorm mate from hell."

"Nah, I never had roommates. Not for very long, anyway."

Dawn laughed and leaned against his shoulder. "Did you go home every weekend? Or is that a stupid question?"

"Left the minute my last class ended and didn't come back until my first one. It was better in my undergrad years, when I was still living at home and I could pick my optional courses according to scheduling. I could usually wrangle an extra day or two at home each week if I did it right."

"So you took whatever courses gave you days off? No matter what they were?" Dawn said.

"Well, within reason. Usually I could get something I wanted. In my last year, though, the only thing I could find to fit my schedule was a course in women's studies."

Dawn sputtered a laugh. "So what'd you do?"

"Took it. Nothing wrong with women's studies. I think I got off on the wrong foot with the prof the first day, though, when I asked why there weren't any men's studies courses."

"What'd she say?" Dawn asked.

"Nothing. Just gave me a look, like I shouldn't even be asking. But we got along okay after that. She even mailed me a congratulations card when I got my doctorate, said I was still the only guy who'd ever earned an A in her course and she hoped that I'd live by the lessons I learned there."

"What lessons were those?" Dawn asked.

"I have no idea."

Dawn laughed, and hopped off the desk. "We should get to work. Mind if I go grab something to eat first? I skipped breakfast."

"I'll go with you." He glanced over at me. "So we're okay, then?"

Dawn smiled. "We're fine."

They were "fine" for another couple of weeks. Then they hit their next rough patch and, again, it blindsided her. Everything was great, and then, things just started getting … strange.

Clay had to make a presentation to the department on his paper, and he was stressed. When the typewriter jammed for the umpteenth time, he threw it against the wall. Smashed it to pieces. Dawn could only stand there and stare. He snapped out of it right away, and apologized for losing his temper, but still … well, it knocked her off balance. It was then that Dawn reopened her magical senses to Clay trying to sense if he was a demon. His aura didn't read as anything other than human that she could tell.

Dawn could understand a young academic worrying about the initial presentation of his first big paper. Or she would if that young academic was anyone but Clay. His attitude toward his career was laissez-faire at best, that arrogant, casual air of someone who knows he's brilliant and doesn't give a shit if anyone else agrees. To see him flipping out over this made no sense.

The presentation seemed to go fine. So she wanted to surprise him with a celebratory night. She made reservations for dinner in the theater district. Then she'd try to scoop half-priced last-minute tickets to a show. Dawn bought a new outfit. A black wool dress. She very rarely if ever wore dresses. Skirts were one thing and she didn't have a problem with them. The thought of wearing a dress stemmed from her time with Elizabeth.

She left a note on his desk telling him she'd come around to his apartment with dinner. Then she hurried to her apartment, showered, dressed, put on makeup, fussed with her hair, strapped on a new pair of heels, and walked the two blocks to his apartment, trying hard not to fall in the heels.

Dawn used her key, went up to his apartment, and knocked. Then waited. Knocked again. Waited some more. She had a key for this door, too, but she wanted that moment when he opened it and saw her dressed up for the first time.

Finally, after five minutes of waiting, she let herself in. "Clay?"

"Here."

Dawn went into the bedroom, where he was pulling on a sweatshirt. She waited. He straightened and ran his hands through his curls, his back to her.

"I gotta go," he said, grabbing his motorcycle keys from the nightstand. "Wait here for me."

"Clay?" Dawn asked.

"What?" He snapped the word, his back still to her.

Dawn stood there, teetering on her heels, her stomach lurching and twisting. He snatched his motorcycle helmet from beside the bed and brushed past her without even looking.

"I gotta go," he mumbled. "Wait here. I'll be back in an hour."

Three long strides, and he was out the door. Dawn stood there for at least five minutes, too stunned and hurt to think. Then she brushed back the first prick of tears, whipped his keys across the room, and with of flash of green she was gone.

Dawn lay on her bed, staring up at the dirt-speckled ceiling. The roar of a motorcycle sounded outside her window. Her heart skipped. She rolled over, trying hard not to listen for the next sign, but straining just the same, then exhaling a small puff of relief when it came: the tinkle of stones at her second-floor window.

Dawn forced herself to wait for the third pebble shower before she deigned to respond. Even then she just walked to her window, not opening it. He was probably just here to give her shit for not "waiting" like he commanded. At the thought, Dawn clenched her fists. She shouldn't have thrown away his keys. She should have kept them, so she could throw them at him now, see his reaction.

Dawn stood at the window and looked down. He was there, between the back hedge and the wall, blond hair pale in the moonlight. He lifted something white. A Styrofoam box. He opened it and pointed inside, mouthing something. Dawn shaded her eyes to see better. It was a takeout box stuffed full of pancakes. He mouthed something again. This time she could make it out: "Please." She hesitated, then lifted a finger and pulled the curtains to dress.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Dawn came out of her apartment prepared to tell Clay off to get out of her life. This was the very reason she had adopted the policy of get some and gone. No attachments that lasted. She didn't want to go through losing someone. Jack had been bad enough. She had remained by his side till he died. And she had vowed never to do it again.

Clay led her to a stone wall where they could have some privacy. As she looked around for a place to sit, he tugged off his jacket, but she sat on the grass before he could offer it. When he tried to hand it to her anyway, she fussed with her own coat, adjusting the zipper and pretending not to see him holding out his for her. "I found your shoes," he said.

She stopped fidgeting. "My shoes?"

"The ones you left at my apartment."

"How'd you know they were mine?" Dawn bit out. She had realized in her fit of rage she had teleported leaving the heels behind. It happened sometimes when she was angry, once she had teleported and when she appeared at her destination she was naked.

"They aren't?" Clay asked, knowing they were. "Well, if they aren't yours, I'll throw them away."

"They're mine. New shoes. They were pinching my feet, so I took them off," Dawn lied. "I guess I was distracted and just left them there."

"You had something planned," he said. "For tonight. Something special."

Dawn shrugged. "I knew you were worried about the presentation and, now that it's over, I wanted to … I don't know, celebrate, kick back and relax, something. But when you plan a surprise, you take a risk. The other person might have different plans. I accept that." She looked up, her gaze meeting his. "What I don't accept is how you reacted."

"I—"

"I asked if I could bring over dinner, and you said yes, so you knew I was coming. I didn't barge into your apartment without warning. I knocked. You've told me a hundred times just to use my keys and come in. I didn't ask for keys. I wasn't even sure I wanted them. But you insisted so I could use the books in your apartment to study. It was your idea, not mine. And that still stands, right?" she said. "You didn't change the key-ownership rules in the last twenty-four hours and neglect to inform me?"

"Of course not."

"Well, you sure as hell acted like you had. I put up with your shit all week, Clay, your moods, your temper, and your demands. And when it was over, I felt like I should treat you to an evening out, 'cause god knows, you deserved it. I told you I was coming over, I knocked, I let myself in. You snarled and stalked out without a word of explanation," Dawn said.

"It wasn't your fault."

"I know," Dawn said.

Her eyes bore into his with fury

"I owe you an explanation," Clay said quickly.

"No, you don't. You never owe me an explanation for anything you do, Clay. If I haven't made that clear already, let me state it, for the record, right now. I only demand two things of you. One, that you treat me with respect. Two, that you're honest with me—that you be yourself. If you're doing that, then I don't need to know what you're doing, where you're going, where you've been, and I'll never demand to know," Dawn said.

"Like me, you mean. Like I do."

Dawn blinked. "That wasn't a jab."

"I don't demand those things from you, Dawn. I ask because I like to know what happened in your day. If I can't be there, I want to hear about it. If you don't want to tell me, you can just say so."

"And sound like I have something to hide." Dawn opened her mouth to continue then, again, shook it off. She picked up the box of pancakes and opened it. "They're cold, but I can pop them in the toaster oven. Just hold on and I'll—"

Clay grabbed her arm as she jumped up. When she stiffened, he let go fast. "Just a sec, okay?" he said. "I _do_ want to explain."

Dawn hesitated, and then lowered herself back to the grass.

"You're right, about the presentation. I kept thinking, when it was over I'd be fine, but then it ended, and I still wasn't sure how well it had gone. I came back to the apartment, and I was just … frustrated. Restless. More than restless. Ready to jump out of my skin. I wanted to work it off before you came over. I didn't want you seeing me like that."

Clay shifted, stretching his legs, but careful not to get closer to her. "I already screwed things up this week. And I knew that if I even stopped to give a proper explanation, I'd snap. I shouldn't have let things build up that way in the first place."

Dawn glanced up at him, eyes hooded. "And now you're going to tell me that it was a mistake and it'll never happen again."

"I can tell you that I'll _try_ not to let it build up like that," Clay said finally. "I can tell you that I'll warn you if it does. I can ask you to tell me if you see it starting. But I can't promise that it'll never happen again."

Dawn pushed up onto her knees. She then leaned over and kissed him "Thank you," she said. "For being honest. That's all I ask."

Her lips went to his again. His arms went around her and he kissed her hard enough to make a laugh ripple through her. Clay eased down onto his back and pulled her along with him.

As Dawn stretched out on top of him, her hands slid under his shirt, fingers tugging it out of his jeans, palms running over her stomach, skin hot against the rising chill of the night air. She pulled back, kissing him more lightly as her fingers tickled over his sides, pushing his shirt up. Then she paused. "Too cold?" she whispered.

"Never."

He pushed his shirt off over his head and tossed it into a nearby bush. Dawn laughed. As he lifted his head to kiss her, he unzipped her coat. Then pulled her shirt out from her waistband and unbuttoned it. She wasn't wearing a bra. "Too cold?" he asked.

Dawn grinned. "Never."

And then out there just out of sight of anyone walking by they made love. A few moments later, Dawn's grip on Clay's shoulders relaxed, and she pulled back, exhaling in a long sigh. Then she paused and wiped a spot of blood from his shoulder.

"Sorry," she murmured. "I didn't mean to—"

"Hear me complaining?"

Dawn laughed. "No."

"Then don't apologize."

Dawn rolled off him, shivered, then slid her hands to his waistband. "Now, your turn."

"I'm good."

"Hmm?" Dawn looked into my eyes, then blushed. "Ah, okay, then." Another chuckle. "I'll get you next time."

Clay reached up and pulled her onto jo, again. She started to lie down with him, then stopped and looked around.

"What's wrong?" Clay asked through a yawn.

"Uh, just realizing that we're lying on the ground, half naked, about twenty feet from my apartment building," Dawn said as she stretched out with her magical senses trying to sense if anyone was coming.

"See anyone around?"

"No," Dawn said.

"Then don't worry about it. If I sm—see anyone, I'll tell you." Clay yawned, gulping fresh air to wake my brain before I slipped again. "And you're not half naked. Just me." I straightened her coat over her shoulders. "There. Lie down on me again, and no one will see anything."

"Except me lying on the ground in the middle of November, on top of a professor," Dawn said.

"Stop worrying. I won't let anyone see you."

Dawn grinned down at him. "You'll protect me?"

"Always."

Dawn looked into his eyes. She knew she would have to tell him the truth of her life before it went much further. That the reason she and Buffy were moving to Toronto was because people would get suspicious of two women apparently unaging. She knew she would also have to tell Buffy.

The next week, as Dawn and Clay headed to High Park for a run, a light snow started to fall and they decided to forgo jogging and enjoy the mild winter night. They'd been out for about an hour when they passed a huge evergreen on a corner. As they walked by, the tree suddenly lit up in a blaze of colored lights.

Dawn jumped back, then shook her head. "Must be on a timer."

Clay walked a couple more steps before he realized she was no longer beside me. He looked back to see her still in front of the evergreen, looking up at it. "Do you like Christmas?" she asked.

Clay blinked. "Um, sure. I guess."

Dawn laughed. "Not big on the holidays, huh?" She caught up with him and resumed walking.

"Christmas can be stressful. All that pressure—buy the right gifts, spend too much money, hang out with relatives…not that I ever—well, I've _heard_ it can be stressful," Clay said.

"It isn't. Not for me, anyway. Buffy and I are pretty laid back about the holidays since it's just the two of us." Dawn said.

She turned to look out at the street. "When do you go home?" she asked.

"Go—?"

"For the holidays. I was just thinking, maybe we could do a little Christmas of our own, before either of us leave. Nothing big, maybe presents and a nice dinner. Just … something. If that's okay with you," Dawn said.

Clay looked at her, and then made a decision. "I'm not going home."

"But—" Dawn said. Their separation for Christmas would have been the perfect way to extract herself from his life. Stage an auto accident and let him believe she was dead. But if he was not going back then she would have to rethink her plans. Oh, why had she let him get through her barriers?

"I need to have that paper done by the end of the year, remember? So I'll stay here, have Christmas with you, and go home for the first week of the New Year."

"You're almost done with the paper. You should spend Christmas with—" Dawn said trying to get him to leave for Christmas not New Years.

"They'll wait. Everyone usually comes down for a couple of weeks anyway, and they don't care exactly when we celebrate it. If someone can't make it, everyone else waits."


	5. Chapter 5: Problems

**Chapter 5: Problems**

Dawn called Buffy the next day in near hysterics. "Buffy, I'm in trouble here."

"What's going on?" Buffy asked.

"I fell for this guy. You remember the professor I told you about that hired me as his TA. I've been dating him for a while," Dawn said.

Buffy sighed. "Dawn, while I am happy you have found someone. That does put us in a bind so close to the move. I'll come back after Christmas. I can't get away before then. We'll see what we can do about him then. You may have to tell him the truth. Do you think he'll keep our secret?"

"I don't know," Dawn said. "I think so."

Two days later Dawn was at Clay's apartment. She stopped drying a plate and looked at Clay, nose scrunching. "We need a tree …" she said. Till Buffy arrived she decided to try and not let on that something was wrong.

"That's where I thought we'd start."

"With a … tree …?" Dawn asked.

"Right. Or should we buy the decorations first?"

"Decor—" Dawn laughed. "Oh, you mean a _Christmas_ tree. Context, Clay. You must learn the fine art of conversational context." She slid the plate onto the shelf. "A tree would be nice. Is it too soon?" She leaned over the counter to squint at the dining room calendar. Her lips moved as she counted. "Just over three weeks—it should last that long. When do you want to get it?"

"Tomorrow. We'll stop by the hardware store for an axe, then I know where there is a strand of them just outside town."

"So we'll just go chop one down." Dawn's cheeks twitched as she bit back a laugh. "Highly illegal, but perfectly sensible, and that's what matters in Clay's world. Did you notice the trees in the grocery store lot? Hint: They didn't grow there overnight. That's where we get Christmas trees from in our world."

"Yeah, half-dead ones, cut down in October. Damn things would be naked by Christmas."

"True." Dawn started to move away, but he put his hand against the small of her back, keeping her close. "I suppose that's what you do at home, isn't it?" she said. "Grab an axe, walk out to the back forty, and chop down a tree. That'd be nice."

A wistful look, then she brightened. "Oh, wait a sec. There are tree farms, outside the city, where you can cut your own—"

Dawn stopped, gaze skipping to the side. "On second thought, maybe not. They'll be packed with people—crying kids, crowded wagons—definitely not your idea of a good time."

"I'd survive."

"No, we can—" Dawn said.

"Find a place and we'll go tomorrow."

The day after they got the tree, they put it up and decorated it. Only one thing was missing: the presents to go underneath. She and Buffy generally would go shopping the day after they got the tree. They would generally buy way more presents than they needed. Then they would pretend the presents were from their mom, Xander, Willow and Giles. It had been like that for a very long time. If it hadn't been for Buffy preparing for the move they would have done that again this year.

Two days later they were shopping. Logan had even come down to shop with them. Dawn's fingers flipped through the jewel-bright colors, frown deepening, then lightening. She paused on a dark burgundy, and then shook her head. As she looked away, she stopped, and tugged out the arm of a deep royal-blue sweater. She smiled; this would be perfect for Buffy.

"I don't know about you, but I'm ready for lunch," Logan said as Dawn approached after buying the sweater. "How about that food court we passed on the first level?"

Dawn's gaze darted toward Clay, then back again too fast for Logan to follow. "One more stop and my list is done," she said. "Maybe we can grab a muffin or something, finish up, then swing through Chinatown on the way back, find someplace less crowded. And more appetizing."

"Works for me," Logan said.

"So who do you guys have left?" Dawn asked.

"Jeremy." Logan looked at Clay. "And, I'm guessing, Jeremy."

Clay nodded.

Dawn laughed. "There's always one, isn't there?"

"Is there an art store here?" Logan said. "That's the usual standby for Jeremy."

Dawn pulled a face. "And I'm sure when he picks up a gift from his pile, he's going, 'Hmm, paintbrush or paper?' Let's show some originality this year, guys. There's a huge sports store in here. We'll head there."

Logan looked my way. "Uh, Jeremy's not really the sports type …"

"Clay said he likes marksmanship, right?" Dawn asked.

"Uh, sure. But—"

"Come on, then," Dawn said.

On the way to the sports store, Logan kept shooting looks Clay's way, clearly worried about what Dawn had in mind, but not wanting to denigrate her efforts. Dawn led them to a row of locked glass cabinets near the back of the sports store. Inside were tournament bows, BB guns, camping knives, and all the other sports paraphernalia that couldn't be put out on the shelves.

Logan pretended to survey the cabinets. "Umm, you know, this would be a great idea … if Clay or I knew a damned thing about what kind of equipment Jeremy uses. I know, we should pay attention, but, well, it's Jeremy's thing." He shrugged. "Bullets, sights, arrows, they all look the same to me."

"Which is why I'm not suggesting that," Dawn said. "Bullets and arrows are as bad as paintbrushes and paper. Supplies, not presents. A gift should be something different, something he doesn't already own." She moved down the row and stopped at a bow display. "Does he have a crossbow?"

Clay shook his head.

"Has he ever said he _doesn't_ want one? Tried one and didn't like it?"

"Nope." Clay bent to look at the crossbows. "That's what I'll get him, then."

"You don't have to. It's just a thought—" Dawn said.

"It's a great thought. He likes trying new stuff. Thanks."

Dawn's lips curved in a shy half-smile. "You're welcome. Oh, but make sure you save the receipt. And pick out something not too expensive, so he won't feel bad if he doesn't use it."

Logan bent beside Clay. "You know, that _is_ a good idea." He slanted a look toward Clay. "Clay must have told you a lot about Jeremy, huh?"

Dawn shrugged. "This and that. He sounds … well, I look forward to meeting him." She blinked fast realizing her slip. If luck held out she would never meet him. "Assuming, I mean, that I will meet him. I'd like to, of course …"

"You will," Clay murmured.

"Someday, right?" Dawn hesitated, and then said quickly, "Maybe you can set it up when you're home for the holidays."

"I … sure, I could …" Clay glanced at Logan, who busied himself with a racquetball display.

"Not a weekend visit or anything big like that," Dawn hurried on. "We could meet halfway, like in Syracuse for dinner."

"That would be a good idea." Clay turned. "Hey, Logan. Help me pick out one of these, will you? I'll buy the bow; you can pitch in with the arrows and stuff. Make it a joint gift, then get the hell out of here and track down lunch."

Logan looked over at Dawn, then nodded and walked back to help Clay.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Arms loaded with gifts, Dawn twisted sideways to push open her apartment door. She held the door with my foot, and then managed to swing around and get out of the way before it hit her.

Dawn lowered the load to the bed. She checked her answering machine and saw that there were two messages from Buffy and five from Jason. Dawn didn't return Jason's call. She didn't want that headache.

"Just one," Clay said the next day, sliding his foot under the tree and nudging the stack of gifts. "Look, lots there. Opening one early won't hurt."

They were stretched out on his living room carpet, surrounded by shortbread and gingerbread cookie crumbs, two mugs of hot chocolate leaning precariously on the deep carpet pile. Clay waved his cookie toward the tree, scattering more crumbs. "Go on. Open one. You've been eyeing them all night."

"Have not," Dawn said.

"Have too." He hooked one with his foot and punted it out. "There. It fell off the pile. Don't make me put it back. Open it."

"But if I open one, then you should open one, and I only brought—" Dawn said.

"I don't need gifts. I already told you that. And I'm _far_ more patient than you."

Dawn snorted a laugh. "Who burned his tongue on the hot chocolate after I told him it was still too hot?"

"That's different. That was food." He twisted and stretched over to the end table, reached up, and grabbed a tissue. Then he took two cookies from the plate and wrapped them.

"There, a gift for me," he said.

"But you already know what it is," Dawn said.

"Doesn't matter. If it's edible, I'm not complaining." He unwrapped the tissue. "Oh, look, a hunchback cookie. Thank you."

He bit off the head.

"There," he mumbled around the mouthful of cookie. "I've opened and accepted my gift. Now your turn."

Dawn laughed. Truth be told most of the gifts she had bought were for Buffy. One or two were for Logan and one for Clay. Clay's real gift was going to be to tell him the truth about who she and Buffy were.

Clay grabbed Dawn around the waist and pulled her to him. He kissed her and she tasted gingerbread. The kiss deepened and she pressed against him. After a few minutes of kissing, he pulled back and twisted as he reached behind him.

"Now for your gift," he said.

"You mean _that_ wasn't it?" Dawn asked.

"Nah, I don't reserve that for special occasions, darling, or I'd have to make up a whole lot of them. Two-month anniversary; two-month-and-one-hour anniversary; two-month, one-hour, and twenty-three-minute anniversary …"

He lifted the gift and rolled back to see Dawn staring down at him.

"What did you say?" she said.

"I said I don't reserve that for special occasions, or I'd—"

"No, what did you call me?" Dawn asked.

"Call you?"

"Maybe I misheard. I hope so, because if you have to call me something—" Dawn shook her head. "Never mind. Just give me the gift."

"So we've gone from 'Oh no, I don't really want one early' to 'Hand it over'?"

Dawn sighed and snatched the gift from his hand. It was rectangular, about half the size of a shoe box, with something inside that jangled.

"It's a present, not a psychic test," he said. "Just open it already."

Dawn ripped off the paper, opened the box, reached inside, and pulled out a key. Two keys, actually, looking remarkably similar to the set she had in her purse.

"They're for the apartment," Clay said.

"That's what I thought." Dawn lifted them from the box. "Oh, wait, it's a new keychain. No, that's the free one they give you at the key-cutting place."

"The keys are the gift, not the chain."

"A set of keys to match the set I already have?" Dawn asked.

"Right."

Dawn looked at him.

"Backup keys," he said. "If I piss you off, and you get the urge to throw my keys away, go ahead. You now have replacements."

"Doesn't that defeat the purpose?" Dawn asked.

"Only if the purpose is really to break up with me. If you just want to tell me I'm being a jerk and I'd better shape up, then this works fine. Symbolic key whipping without the risk of keyless inconvenience."

"Uh-huh," Dawn said.

"I could get you a nicer keychain."

Dawn laughed and flicked cookie crumbs off the carpet at him. As she took another swig of hot chocolate, she glanced at the tree again.

"What, eyeing the pile, hoping there's something better in there?"

"No, I was just—" Dawn leaned toward the presents. "What happened to that one? Looks like you used a whole roll of tape on it."

"I ran out of paper, so I covered the hole with tape."

Dawn inched toward the tree. "Meaning, if I look closely, I can probably see right through it?"

"Don't you dare."

As Dawn lunged for the present, Clay scissored his legs around her waist. She squirmed, and almost got free before he grabbed her arm. She knew better than to struggle. Clay had a vise grip—once he got hold of her, she wasn't getting away unless she teleported. And now wasn't the time to start that conversation.

Dawn let him tug her away from the tree. When he let go of her arm, she shot back toward the gift pile. Her foot accidentally struck his jaw. He let out a curse and she turned to see him wincing as he ran a finger along his front teeth.

"Shit," he muttered. "It's loose."

Dawn scrambled back to him. "I'm so sorry. Which one—"

He grabbed Dawn around the waist and yanked her off her feet. His hold slipped as her shirt pulled from my jeans, and she managed to twist almost out of his grip, but he moved fast, tugging her down as he rolled on top of me.

They tussled for a few minutes, laughing and cursing, depending on who had the upper hand. Soon his mouth found hers and he pinned her, arms over her head, grip slack, letting her know she could get away anytime.

"We should talk," Dawn said.

"Talk?" Clay said as he pulled back. "About what?"

"This," Dawn said and she disappeared in a flash of green, causing him to fall to the floor from her sudden disappearance beneath him.

"My name is not Dawn Elena Michaels," Dawn said from behind him as he turned to face her. "My name is Dawn Marie Summers. My sister Buffy and I are over two hundred years old. We're immortal, having drunk from the Fountain of Youth. I was originally born in the year 1987. And Buffy will be born next month, literally."

Clay listened as Dawn laid out her entire life story starting with the Key and Glory and culminating with the last couple years. "That's why Buffy and I are moving to Toronto. It's time for us to change names, change identities. We can only stay in one place ten, maybe twenty years before someone notices we don't age."

Clay slowly nodded. If Dawn hadn't teleported he might have thought she was delusional. But teleporting like that had cause for him to pause and think over her whole story. They sat there just looking at each other. Neither of them speaking as Clay digested what Dawn had told him. Then he smiled.

"Thank you for telling me, darling. Does this mean you're leaving soon?"

"I'm afraid so," Dawn said. "It's the reason Buffy is in Toronto. She's been setting up our new identities. I told you because I trust you not to reveal our secrets. And because I love you. I haven't loved anyone in two hundred years, not since Jack. I had decided a long time ago that I would not watch someone I love die again. So I adopted the philosophy of get some and gone. Till you that philosophy worked. You wormed your way past my barriers. Now I'm not interested in get some and gone, not with you. But there is still the problem with the fact I don't age. There is only one solution to that. You leave with me."


	6. Chapter 6: Bitten

**Chapter 6: Bitten**

Clay had told Dawn he accepted what she had told him and thought he might have a way for them to stay together without the risk of anyone finding out who she was. So two days later they had set out for northern New York, for his home at a place he called Stonehaven.

"This way," Clay took Dawn's hand and led her off the driveway onto the lawn.

It was past ten at night and the yard was dark, with a half-moon lighting the way. Clay's eyes glowed, like a boy returning home after his first summer camp. Still holding Dawn's hand, he ducked through the evergreens, following a faint path. They turned a corner and he swung behind her, grabbed her around the waist, and held her still.

Dawn could feel his breath against her hair, the pound of his heart. Then he eased them to the left, past the trees … and there it was, the house. A stone house over two stories tall.

"You like it?"

Dawn looked at him. "I love it," she said.

Moments later they stood on the front step, doorbell rung, awaiting a response. Clay's reason for ringing the bell was the same he'd given for taking a cab on the long and expensive ride from the airport.

"I want to surprise him," he'd said.

"He doesn't know we're coming?" Dawn asked.

"He knew I was coming home, just not this soon. Remember the plan was for me to stay till New Year's."

Clay was lifting his hand to knock again when the door swung open. Dawn braced herself, and then relaxed. This wasn't Jeremy. She hadn't seen pictures of Clay's guardian—Clay kept only sketches Jeremy had done of their friends, and there were no self-portraits. Yet she knew this wasn't him, unless he was a vampire or a demon.

As Clay's surrogate father, Jeremy had to be at least in his late forties and this man, without a wrinkle on his lean, angular face, or a strand of gray in his black hair, couldn't have been more than thirty.

"Hey, Jer," Clay said, his voice tight with strain. "Aren't you going to let us in?"

Dawn blinked and looked at the man again. It couldn't be … But as she saw the look on his face, his shock double her own, she knew the truth. This _was_ Jeremy. She reached out instantly with her magical senses and tried to ascertain if the man in front of her was a demon. Her senses told her he was human. So how was Jeremy looking ten years younger than he should have?

The next few minutes were a blur. Jeremy backed up to let them in and Clay performed introductions, Dawn struggling to overcome her shock and give some appropriately polite response. Then Clay grabbed their bags, mumbled something about seeing Jeremy in the morning, and rushed them up the stairs.

He ushered Dawn into the first bedroom on the left. She'd often wondered what his room here would look like—he kept his apartment and office so utilitarian—but now that she was there, the room could have been empty for all she noticed. The moment the door closed, she turned on him.

"How could you?" Dawn whispered.

He reached for Dawn, but she backed away.

"How could you?" Dawn said again, rage turning the whisper to a hiss. "To bring me here—show up on his doorstep—without a word of warning to him—to _me_ …"

Clay said nothing.

"So …" Dawn said. "We're here. You said you have a way for us to stay together. What is it?"

"Hmm?"

"You said you had a way for us to stay together, without fear of anyone finding out."

"Right. Just as soon as—" Doubt flickered over his face. Then he shook his head. "No, I'll do it now. We'll—"

A rap at the door. Clay tensed. His gaze cut to hers. A pause, then another knock, louder. Dawn motioned for him to answer it. He paused, and then called, "Come in."

Jeremy eased the door partly open, but stayed in the hall. He nodded Dawn's way, before turning to Clay.

"I'd like to speak to you."

"We were just—" Clay said.

"It's getting late and I'm sure Dawn is tired from the trip. I'll keep it short."

Clay hesitated for at least thirty seconds. Then he swallowed, murmured something to me, and left, closing the door behind him.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Jeremy led Clay into the study. Then he sat in his recliner and stared at the fire.

"I'm sorry," Clay said after a few minutes.

"Sorry?" The word came slow, hesitant. "I don't even know what to say, Clay. I should have seen this coming," he said. "I knew what you were looking for and when you came home, excited and happy, the obvious reason should have been that you'd found it. But the thought never crossed my mind because I thought you could never find what you wanted, because there were no female werewolves. A human mate? That never occurred to me. The way you feel about humans—"

"Dawn's different."

"Different?" Again, that careful, confused enunciation. "How long have you—? No, I guess I already know that. Since fall. But all those months…And you never…Not a word. I can't—" He let the sentence fall away.

"I knew I had to be sure—to be able to prove to you that I was sure."

"Sure of what?"

"Of us. Dawn and me. That we could make it work. Then she told me her secrets. Hers and her sister's."

"Secrets?"

"She's immortal, Jer. She's over two hundred years old. She's a witch and her sister is the Slayer."

"The Slayer?" Jeremy said. "You brought the Slayer's sister into our home?"

"You know what this Slayer is?" Clay asked,

"Yes," Jeremy said. "I've heard passing mention from the supernatural community that passed through Bear Valley. She is the human world's protection from the supernatural. Do you know what will happen if she finds out what we are?"

"She won't though," Clay said. "Because she won't attack her sister. I intend to tell Dawn tonight."

"No, you will not." His gaze locked on Clay's. "You will not tell her, Clayton. That is an order."

"You don't understand. She—"

"No, _you_ don't understand. Maybe that's my fault. All your life I've made allowances for you. Yes, maybe you need a mate, but do you think none of us ever feels that urge? If I've led you to believe that this is another concession to your nature that I'll make, then that is my fault. But the misunderstanding is about to be corrected." He met Clay's gaze, held it, and said, "The girl must go."

 _"Never."_

The word came out as a snarl. Jeremy blinked, genuine fear flashing behind his eyes. Then he pulled himself up straight, face going as hard as his eyes.

"Don't you ever challenge my word, Clayton." His voice was low and sharp. "You have a choice to make and, as Alpha, it is my duty to insist that you make it. Either you end it with this girl or you take her and walk out that door—for good."

Clay jerked back as if punched. He stared at Jeremy, unable to think, let alone speak.

Jeremy blinked, and in that tiny reaction, Clay knew that he hadn't understood at all. Jeremy had only heard what he had wanted to hear. That Buffy was the Slayer and Dawn was her sister. He hadn't heard that they were both immortal.

"Don't make me. It would—" Clay swallowed hard. " _Please_ don't make me."

An awkward moment of silence. Clay could feel Jeremy's gaze on him, confused. Finally, he sighed, head falling forward, exhaustion etched on his face.

"Let me …" he began. "Give me some time to think about it. I'll look after this for you."

With that, he pushed to his feet and left the study.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Clay walked into the bedroom and saw Dawn in bed, her eyes closed. But he could tell she was not asleep. He knew the magical senses she explained to him told her that he was there.

"Whatever it is you think that will keep me from leaving. I'm pretty sure he won't let you do it. Will he?"

"No," Clay said. "He won't."

Dawn opened her eyes to look at him and nodded. "I'll go in the morning. Once my energies are replenished for the teleport."

The next morning Dawn walked out of the bathroom to see Clay awake.

"Wait," he said, scrambling up. "I'll be ready in a second, and I'll make you breakfast."

Dawn sighed and nodded. She sat down to wait.

Jeremy had already eaten. When they finished, he took Clay aside as Dawn cleared the table.

"Last night you said you wanted me to understand," he murmured, too low for Dawn to hear from the kitchen. "You're right. I need to understand, and the only way I can do that is to spend some time with this girl, talk to her, and get to know her. Maybe you're right if her sister found that she is here of her own free will. The Slayer won't bother us."

A day ago, Clay would have jumped at those words. But now he knew the truth. Jeremy would never understand.

"I can't talk to her with you hovering. I want to speak to her alone."

"I'll keep quiet—" Clay said.

"No, you won't. You can't. I'm going to speak to her, and you will stay away while I do. Then I'll figure out a solution for your problem."

Clay opened his mouth to argue, but knew it would do no good. He knew Jeremy would do whatever it took to send Dawn away. Maybe there was another way that he could keep Dawn with him.

Clay took Dawn to the study.

Jeremy talked about Dawn's schooling, and how she expected to continue after she and Clay were married, and did she understand what she'd be giving up.

Dawn smirked. "I have a Ph.D. from Harvard. I don't need the schooling. It is a way to pass the time. When you are immortal all you have is time."

"So you believe you are immortal?" Jeremy asked.

Dawn smirked. "Yes. Both me and my sister are immortal." She went on to tell him about hers and Buffy's lives. Not noticing the wolf that came in behind her.

Jeremy spotted the wolf first. "Clay?"

Dawn looked from Jeremy to the wolf and then her eyes went wide as she realized how Clay intended for them to stay together. Before Dawn could step away from Clay, he let instinct take control and he grabbed her hand, his teeth sinking in, breaking the skin. As she let out a yelp, Clay ran his tongue over the wound, working in the saliva.

Dawn passed out after Clay had bit her. Hours later, she was still unconscious, fevered and delirious. It was two days before Dawn would finally began to rouse. Jeremy made sure to sedate her when he was sure Dawn was going to be fine. He then took Dawn back to her apartment in New York. He was concerned that her sister, the Slayer, would come after him, Clay and the rest of the Pack, if she ever found out who had bitten Dawn. He planned to bring the sisters into the Pack by pretending to try and find out who had bitten Dawn. And hoping he would never have to reveal that information to either of them.


	7. Chapter 7: Return to Stonehaven

**Chapter 7: Return to Stonehaven**

 **1990**

Dawn wanted to sleep, but couldn't. She had spent the last four nights working on an article for the newspaper she worked for, and she was exhausted. Her entire body was tingling as she felt the first stages of the Change.

She didn't remember who had bitten her. Jeremy, when he had approached the sisters after Dawn's first Change, had said that some memory loss was to be expected. He had approached them explaining that Dawn was now a werewolf and that he would help find out who had bitten Dawn. After six years Jeremy had made no progress on that front and Buffy and Dawn had left for Toronto to begin the new identities they had been setting up before Dawn was bitten.

Dawn would have gone out and allowed the Change to take over. But she didn't for one reason, Buffy was out on patrol. They had found out that Toronto was on a Hellmouth and that demons flocked there, not to the extent of Sunnydale but still enough to warrant that Buffy start patrolling. Dawn usually waited till Buffy was home before she let the Change happen so that Buffy would be with her in case she needed to be sedated.

The tingling sensation spread down her arms and legs. Dawn realized she didn't have any time left to wait for Buffy. She got out of bed, grabbed a pile of clothing and got dressed. She walked out of her room and quietly rapped on Buffy's door hoping that her sister had come home early and she just hadn't heard. When no answer came she entered Buffy's bedroom she quickly scribbled her sister a note and left it on her pillow.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Dawn quickly walked down the street, looking for a quiet place to Change. She monitored the tingling as it raced through her body, as soon as it reached her head she knew she had gone as far as she could. She hurried down a deserted alley and undressed quickly behind a barricade of trash bins and hid her clothes under an old newspaper, hoping a good wind wouldn't blow the newspaper away or that someone wouldn't find her clothes and take them.

Dawn sighed as she let the Change come. Her skin began to stretch out as she tried to block the pain. She dropped to the ground as she doubled over. The Change she had found was never easy. Over the next ten minutes she Changed from human to wolf.

When it was over Dawn stretched and blinked. When she looked around, the world was mutated to an array of colors unknown to the human eye, blacks and browns and grays with subtle shadings that her brain still converted to blues and greens and reds. She lifted her nose and inhaled.

Dawn was grateful that when she was a wolf that she was in control. She remembered that Oz had said he was never in control that he was gone when the wolf took over. She had wondered if he had usually blocked it out when he Changed. It was possible. Though for her she was glad she was in control as that meant she would not be a risk to humans. Still she had to get away from them to be on the safe side especially when she could be mistaken for a large dog and her size would be cause for alarm. So she had to get away to someplace where she could run without worrying about humans. Dawn knew that if she wanted to run she had to go to the ravine. She swung to the northwest.

Nearly a half hour later, Dawn stood at the crest of a hill. Her nose twitched, picking up the vestiges of an illegal leaf fire smoldering in a nearby yard. Below her was sanctuary, a perfect oasis in the middle of the city. Dawn leapt forward, throwing herself off. At last she was running.

And then that's when Dawn heard it. Someone had been tracking her. And as she sniffed she knew just who it was. She turned and walked over to her sister.

"Dawn?"

Dawn lowered her head in the affirmative.

"Thank god, Dawnie," said Buffy. "I was worried when I got home and you weren't there. Then I saw your note. Where are your clothes?"

Dawn pawed the ground spelling out the word _alley_ in the dirt.

"Close to the apartment?" Buffy asked as Dawn nodded. "Okay let's head back that way."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

In the alley Dawn Changed back and then yanked on her clothes. She looked to her sister. "I tried to wait. But the sensations got …"

"Sorry," Buffy said. "I would have been home sooner but I found a nest of vamps."

"Its okay, Buffy," Dawn said as they walked down the alley. "I still don't understand how I or the Pack is even able to remain in control. Oz always said that the wolf was in control and that he was just gone."

"I know," said Buffy. "Maybe Oz was blocking it out of his memory. Maybe he's a different kind of werewolf? Who knows?"

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"Hope you're hungry," Buffy said, swinging a bag of Indian takeout onto the table. When not out Slaying, Buffy had a day job at an Indian takeout place down the block. She took the cartons from the bag and set the table.

After dinner, Buffy went downstairs to the fitness center for some weight-training to burn off the excess Slayer energy. And Dawn switched on the TV. She tended to watch old TV sitcoms that hadn't been on by her time in years except for on some obscure cable channel. It was nice seeing things first run instead of in rerun. The show she was watching was almost over when Buffy returned.

"Good workout?" Dawn asked.

"Always good," Buffy said. "What are you watching?" She leaned over Dawn's head

"Who's the Boss," Dawn said.

"How about a patrol?" Buffy asked. "I'll grab a shower while you finish your show."

"Sounds good," Dawn said as Buffy headed to the bathroom.

Then the phone rang. Dawn stood and walked across the room. She had almost reached it when the answering machine picked it up. _"Dawn? Buffy? It's Jeremy."_ She stopped in midstride. _"Please call me. It's important. It's urgent, Dawn, Buffy. You two know I wouldn't call if it wasn't."_

"Dawn?" Buffy asked as she opened the bathroom door.

"It was Jeremy. He said it was important," Dawn said. "I was about to answer it when the machine got it. I'll call him back while you finish your shower."

"Okay," Buffy said.

Dawn picked up the phone and dialed the numbers from memory. It rang four times, and then the answering machine picked up. The voice on the recording was Clay's and she hung up before she heard the entire message. At one time Dawn and Buffy both thought it had been Clay who had bitten her, especially when she had been dating Clay at the time. But if that had been the case they were sure Jeremy would have told them.

An hour later as they did a small mini patrol Buffy asked what Jeremy had wanted. Dawn admitted that she hadn't been able to get in touch with him, but promised to keep trying.

The next morning after breakfast, Buffy went downstairs to get the newspaper and Dawn called again and got the answering machine.

When Buffy came back, Dawn was hovering over the phone, glaring down at it as if she could mentally force Jeremy to pick up. "Still no answer?" she said as Dawn shook her head. "That's unlike Jeremy. Maybe we should go to Stonehaven. See what's wrong."

Dawn knew that Buffy wouldn't leave Toronto if she didn't truly believe something was wrong. "Okay. Get us a flight. If I haven't reached him by noon we'll fly to Syracuse and get a cab to Stonehaven and find out what is wrong."

Each time Dawn called the only reply she got was the click of the answering machine. And so after lunch they took a cab to the airport.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

When the plane landed at the airport in Syracuse, Dawn tried calling again with only the answering machine in response. This time she left a message of two words, "We're coming." Then they got their bags and then got a cab that would take them to Stonehaven.

"Is this it, miss?" the driver asked as he stopped the car sometime later.

Buffy and Dawn looked out the window and saw they were at the front gates of Stonehaven. They could see that Clay was sitting in the grass at the side of the gate.

"We'll get out here," Dawn said.

"Uh-uh. No can do, miss. It's not safe. There's something out there."

Buffy and Dawn thought he was referring to Clay.

"We've been having ourselves some trouble in these woods. Wild dogs by the looks of it. One of our girls from town was found not too far from here. Butchered by these dogs. Buddy of mine found her and he said—well, it wasn't nice. You two just sit back and I'll unlatch that gate and drive you up."

"Wild dogs?" Buffy repeated, certain she'd heard wrong. Jeremy and the Pack had never been a threat to humans before. If that had changed she would have to consider the possibility of having to slay them.

"That's right. My buddy found tracks. Huge ones. Some guy from some college said all the tracks came from one animal, but that can't be right. It's gotta be a pack. You don't see—" The driver's eyes went to the side window and he jumped in his seat. "Jesus!"

The sisters noticed what had startled the driver, Clay stood at Dawn's window grinning at her.

He reached for the door handle as the driver put the car in gear.

"It's okay," Dawn said. "He's with us."

The door opened. Clay ducked his head inside. "You two getting out or just thinking about it?" he asked.

"They're not getting out here," the driver said, twisting back to look over the seat. "If you're fool enough to be wandering around these woods at night, that's your problem, but I'm not letting these young ladies walk god-knows-how-far to that house back there. If you want a ride up, unlock the gate for me and get in. Otherwise, close my door."

Buffy opened her door and slid out as did Dawn so that Clay would not cause a scene with the driver. The cab driver rolled down his window to stop them, and Buffy dropped a fifty on his lap. Clay slammed the other door and headed for the front walk. The driver hesitated, and then sped off.

As Buffy and Dawn approached him, Clay stepped back to watch them as he grinned. "Welcome home, darling."

"Are you the welcoming committee?" Buffy asked. "Or has Jeremy finally chained you up to the front gate where you belong?"

"Slayer, how I've missed you, too," he said.

Buffy shook her head. Clay had never called her by her name. They walked down the quarter-mile lane to the house as Clay followed and inside. Both sisters threw their overnight bags to the floor and headed for the study, expecting to find Jeremy reading by the fireplace.

The room was empty.

"I called," Dawn said. "Why wasn't anyone here?"

"We were here," Clay said. "Around, anyway. You should have left a message."

"I did. Two hours ago," Dawn said.

"Well, that explains it. I've been out by the gate all day waiting for you two, and you both know Jer never checks the machine," Clay said.

"So where is he?" Buffy asked.

Clay shrugged. "Dunno. I haven't seen him since he brought out my dinner a few hours ago. He must have gone out."

The sisters didn't have to check the garage to know that Jeremy going out meant that he had Changed and went for a run.

"Out?" Dawn said. "Well then, we'll just have to find him."

Dawn and Buffy headed for the door as Clay stepped in front of them. "He'll be back soon. Sit down and we'll—" he said.

The Summers sisters sidestepped Clay and walked out of the house as he followed at their heels. They walked through the walled garden to the path leading into the forest. When the trail disappeared into the undergrowth, Dawn paused and sniffed the air, she found nothing. At that moment the sisters realized that Clay was not following them any longer.

"Clayton!" Dawn shouted.

A moment later the reply came back in a crashing of distant bushes. He was off to warn Jeremy. Dawn slammed her hand into the nearest tree trunk. "I should have expected Clay wouldn't let us intrude on Jeremy's privacy that easily," she said.

Dawn and Buffy tried to push through the undergrowth. But found it impossible to make any headway, so they found a clearing and Dawn prepared for the Change. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Head back on to the house. I'll meet you there."

Buffy nodded as she watched her sister disrobe and hand her the clothes. "Okay," she said as she turned to head back in the direction of the house.

The Change was rushed, making it awkward and torturous and afterward Dawn had to rest, panting on the ground. She then got to her feet, and closed her eyes and inhaled the smell of Stonehaven. She darted out of the thicket to the well-worn path.

A howl pierced the night; not musical night singing, but the urgent cry of a lone wolf, blood calling to blood. Dawn closed her eyes and felt the sound vibrate through her. Then she threw back her head and responded.

The bushes crackled behind Dawn and she whirled around to see Clay in wolf form. He caught her forequarters and knocked her onto her back. When Dawn snapped at him, he pulled back. Standing over her, he whined and prodded her neck with his nose, begging her to come play with him.

Dawn grabbed his foreleg between her jaws and yanked him off balance. As Clay fell, she leapt atop him. They tumbled into the thick undergrowth, nipping and kicking and fighting for the top position. Just as he was about to pin her, she wriggled free and leapt away. They circled each other. He inched closer and rubbed his flank against hers. Clay stepped back and crouched, leaving his hindquarters high. Dawn hunkered down as if preparing to meet his attack. When he pounced, she sprang to the side and started to run.

Clay tore after Dawn and they raced through the forest. Then, just as Dawn was circling back toward the front of the property, a shot exploded the peace of the forest. Dawn skidded to a stop.

A shot? Had she really heard a shot? She knew that werewolf hunters, let alone normal hunters rarely came onto Stonehaven, after all the boundaries were clearly marked. Besides the Pack were careful when it came to kills, they didn't go after humans, just animals such as deer or rabbit. Something the wolf could chase and kill. Which meant werewolf hunters rarely even came to Stonehaven as it they had no idea that a werewolf pack lived in the area. It was supposed to be safe.

Another shot rang out. Dawn swiveled her ears. Curiosity got the better of her and she turned and headed north to solve the mystery. She'd barely gone three yards when Clay leapt in front of her. He growled warning her off. Dawn put her ears back and snarled. He blocked her path. Dawn narrowed her eyes and glared at him. She threw herself at him. He met her in mid-leap, knocking the wind from her. When Dawn regained her senses, she was lying on the ground with Clay's teeth locked on the loose skin behind her head. He growled and gave Dawn a rough shake. She got to her feet and he butted her backside with his muzzle.

Dawn turned to give Clay an indignant glare. He butted her again, driving her in the opposite direction. She went along with it for nearly a quarter mile, then swerved to the side and tried an end run around him. But he didn't let her get far when he jumped on top of her, causing her to skid into the dirt. Again he herded her back to the house, nipping at her back legs if she showed signs of slowing.

When they reached where she'd Changed, Clay finally left her alone as he loped off. Dawn sighed and made her Change. "Clay, Buffy has my clothes. I told her to meet me at the house."

"I figured something would happen," Buffy said as she stepped into the clearing. "When I heard the howls, so I stayed close." She handed the clothes to Dawn and her sister yanked them on.

Then Dawn followed by Buffy strode out from the clearing. Clay was there, arms crossed, waiting.

"Where are your clothes?" Buffy asked Clay.

"Elsewhere," he said. "In another clearing deeper in the forest."

"What the hell were you doing?" Dawn shouted.

"Me? Me? I wasn't the idiot running toward men with guns," Clay said.

"Guns?" Buffy looked at her sister with concern.

"Where the hell was your head at, Dawn?" Clay continued ignoring Buffy's concern for Dawn.

"Don't give me that crap," Dawn said. "I wouldn't leave the property and you know it. I was just curious. I'm back an hour and you're already testing the waters. How far can you push me, how much can you control—"

"Those hunters were on the property, Dawn." Clay said.

"You are sure?" Buffy asked. "On Jeremy's land?"

Clay nodded. "He should be inside now. Go talk to him." He turned and headed into the woods to find his clothing.

Dawn and Buffy walked into the house thinking of what the driver had said about wild dogs. There were no wild dogs near Stonehaven. Nor did wild dogs kill humans. Which meant only one thing, a werewolf. The sisters knew it wouldn't be Jeremy or Clay, so who was it? When they entered the study, they found Jeremy hadn't returned. So they decided to wait.

"So you both have come back … finally," a voice said ten minutes later. Buffy and Dawn turned to see that Jeremy stood in the doorway. He looked around. "Where's Clay?" he asked.

"Went to get his clothes," Buffy said. "He and Dawn had Changed."

"I heard shots in the back forest," Dawn said.

"I've been trying to contact you two for three days," Jeremy said ignoring Dawn's statement for the time being on the shots.

"We were busy," Buffy said. "You know the life of a Slayer, Jeremy."

"I understand that Buffy, and I wouldn't call if it wasn't important. If I do call, you two answer. That was the arrangement," Jeremy said.

"Correct, that _was_ the arrangement," Dawn said. "Past tense. Our arrangement ended when Buffy and I left the Pack."

"When you two left the Pack? And when did this happen? Forgive me if I missed something, but I don't recall any such conversation," Jeremy said.

"Jeremy, since Dawn and I are immortal," Buffy said as she tried to explain for the umpteenth time since he had learned of their immortality, "we will outlive even you and your increased lifespan. For that reason we can't be part of the Pack for more than a few years. The deal was that if you did not find out who bit Dawn within a few years, we would have to leave before suspicions were aroused on why we weren't aging. And when we left, that was it."

Clay walked in the room carrying a tray of cold cuts and cheese. He laid it on the desk and looked from Dawn and Buffy to Jeremy.

Jeremy continued. "So Dawn, Buffy, you both are no longer part of the Pack then?"

"Correct," the Summers sisters said together.

"Then you two are one of them—mutts?" Jeremy asked.

"You saying I'm a mutt, Jer?" Buffy asked as she got up into his face. "I wasn't even bitten, remember? The only reason I was officially part of the pack because of my being the Slayer and because of Dawn."

"Of course he isn't Buffy," Clay said before looking at Jeremy. "And of course they aren't, Jer."

"Well, which is it?" Jeremy asked. "Pack or not?"

"Come on, Jer," Clay said. "You know they don't mean it."

"We had an arrangement, Dawn, Buffy. I wouldn't contact you unless I needed you both. Well, I need you both now," Jeremy said.

"You need us for what?" Buffy asked. "To take care of a trespassing mutt? When we left the deal was you would take care of the mutt's that came close to Stonehaven yourself, so I would not have to come back. Anyways what's going on that's so damned important you need us?"

Jeremy turned and headed for the door. "It's late. I've called a Meet for tomorrow. I'll tell you both everything then. Hopefully you both will feel less confrontational after a good sleep."

"Whoa!" Buffy said as she grabbed Jeremy's arm and tightened her grip to remind him of what she was. "We dropped everything to come here. We skipped out of work, paid for airline tickets and a cab from Syracuse. We raced here as fast as we could because no one was answering the damned phone. Dawn and I want to know why we're here and we want to know now. If you walk out that door, we're not going to promise you'll find us here in the morning."

"So be it," Jeremy said. "If you two decide to leave, have Clay drive you to Syracuse."

"Yeah, right," Dawn said. "We'd be more likely to get to the airport by thumbing a ride with the local psychopath."

Clay grinned. "You forget, darling. I am the local psychopath."

Jeremy said nothing, just stood there and waited for Buffy to release his arm. When she did he left the room.

"Arrogant son-of-a-bitch," Dawn muttered as Clay shrugged. "What the hell do you want?"

Clay grinned. "You. What else?"

"Where? Right here? On the floor?" Buffy asked, shocked. Clay was up to his old tricks was he?

"Nah. Not that. Not yet. Just the same old thing I always want. Dawn and you here for good," Clay said. He knew the Slayer in Buffy saw those she loved were hers. He knew that as far as the Slayer was concerned that Buffy was Alpha and Dawn was her mate. He often wondered if Buffy herself had ever realized that. He wondered if Buffy ever realized that Dawn had not been the only one he had ever loved, not that he openly showed it anyways. After all it was why he called her Slayer, instead of Buffy. He looked at Dawn. "I'm glad you're home, darling. I missed you."

Dawn nearly tripped over her feet running from the room as Buffy followed her.


	8. Chapter 8: Meet

****Chapter 8: Meet****

"So?" Buffy asked as she and Dawn stood in the foyer of the house.

"I have to know why he wanted us here," Dawn said. "Why he believed we are still at his beck and call."

"Okay," Buffy said as they grabbed their overnight bags and went upstairs to their old room.

Buffy and Dawn woke the next morning and once dressed headed for the stairs just as

Clay's door creaked open. They heard the padding of bare feet on hardwood. They turned around to see that Clay stood at the top of the stairs in nothing more than his boxers. "How 'bout some company for breakfast?" he asked.

"No," Dawn said. "Buffy and I are fine by ourselves." She and Buffy started back down the stairs. They got exactly three steps when Clay came up behind them and grabbed her elbow.

Clay heard a growl and looked at Buffy as he released Dawn's elbow. "Let me get you two breakfast," he said. "I'll meet you both in the sunroom. I want to talk to the both of you."

"We don't have anything to say to you, Clayton," Dawn said.

"Give me five minutes," Clay said and before the sisters could answer he jogged back to his room to get dressed.

At the bottom of the stairs, a smell stopped the sisters in their tracks. Honeyed ham and pancakes, Dawn's favorite breakfast.

Buffy wondered if the pancakes would be in funny shapes. She remembered when Dawn was younger before Tara's death that Tara had always made Dawn pancakes in funny shapes. Dawn had continued the tradition of making funny shapes for breakfast after that. She wondered if her sister did it out of respect for Tara's memory or because she just loved to have them in funny shapes.

They stepped into the sunroom and saw stacks of ham and pancakes waiting on a steaming platter. They heard footsteps as Jeremy walked in behind them. "It's getting cold. Sit and eat," he said as they sat down and dug in.

"Are you going to tell us what's going on?" Buffy asked.

"Are you both going to listen?" Jeremy asked. "Or are you both trying to pick another fight?"

"We haven't left, have we?" Dawn asked.

A commotion at the front door caused Buffy and Dawn to glance up, as Nick Sorrentino burst into the sunroom. He caught sight of the sisters, covered the room in three running steps, and swung first Dawn and then Buffy before pulling them both into an embrace.

"You two were gone too long, little sisters," Nick said. Even though Buffy was not a wolf, he still considered her one of the pack like the rest of them. "Much too long." He kissed first Dawn and then Buffy.

"Well, just make yourself at home," Clay drawled from the doorway.

Nick turned to Clay and grinned. Still holding the sisters captive in his arms, he strode across the floor and thumped Clay on the back. Clay's arm flew up and grabbed Nick in a headlock. He pulled Dawn away from Nick and then pulled Buffy free before shoving Nick away.

Nick regained his balance and his grin, and bounced back to them. "When did you two get in?" he asked Dawn and Buffy, then poked Clay in the ribs. "And why didn't you tell me they were coming?"

"The prodigal has returned," Antonio Sorrentino said as he grabbed Dawn from behind.

"You're as bad as your son," Dawn said, wriggling out of Antonio's grasp. "Can't you guys just shake hands?"

Antonio laughed and let Dawn down. "I should squeeze harder. Maybe that would teach you two to stay home for a while." He then turned to Buffy and pulled her into his embrace. "Hello Buffy."

"Hello, Antonio," Buffy said as she returned the embrace. She smirked as she did squeeze harder.

"Buffy," Antonio gasped, "getting hard to breathe." Buffy laughed as she let him go. He turned and pulled out a chair beside Jeremy. "Has Peter arrived yet?"

Jeremy shook his head.

"So everyone's coming?" Dawn asked.

"Finish your breakfast." Jeremy said, giving Dawn and Buffy a critical once-over. "You two have lost weight."

Buffy laughed. "And you know that is a physical impossibility."

Jeremy smiled and nodded. "True. Being immortal has its ups and its down." He then turned to talk to Antonio.

Buffy and Dawn sat down and began to eat. While they could not die from hunger, they still felt the hunger pains all the same.

Clay reached over Dawn's shoulder, snatched a hunk of ham, and downed it in one gulp.

"Keep your fingers off Dawn's plate," Jeremy said without turning around. "Yours is in the kitchen. There's enough for everyone."

Antonio was first out the door. When Nick went to follow, Clay grabbed his arm. Nick nodded and bounded off to fill two plates while Clay took the seat beside Dawn.

"Great," Dawn muttered.

Clay's fingers darted out to snag another piece of ham off Dawn's plate. Grabbing her fork, Buffy, with Slayer speed, reached across and stabbed the back of his hand hard enough to make him yelp.

Jeremy looked up at Clay and Buffy and shook his head.

Antonio came back into the sunroom, plate piled high. Nick followed his father and dropped Clay's plate in front of him, and then pulled up a chair beside Buffy, turned it backward, and straddled it.

Then the doorbell rang. Nick went to answer it and came back with Peter Myers. Once again, they went through the rituals of bear hugging, back thumping, and mock punching.

"When's Logan coming?" Buffy asked as everyone settled back to the business of eating.

"He's not," Jeremy said. "He had to fly to Los Angeles for a court case. Last-minute legal substitution. I contacted him last night and let him know what's going on."

"Which reminds me," Clay said, turning to Dawn. "Last time I talked to Logan, he let something slip about speaking to the two of you. 'Course, that's not possible, since you both cut off all contact with the Pack, right?"

Buffy and Dawn didn't say anything. But they didn't need to Clay could tell in their eyes that what Logan had said was true.

After everyone finished breakfast they all moved to the study, where Jeremy explained the situation. There was a werewolf in Bear Valley. The wild dog story was a plausible explanation devised by locals desperate for an answer to werewolf activity; much like a barbeque fork was used to explain vampires in Sunnydale. There had been canine tracks around the body. The kill itself was canine, throat ripped out and body partly devoured. It looked like a dog kill, so the locals had decided it was.

Everyone in the room knew better, the killer was a werewolf.

"What we need to do first is find this mutt," Jeremy said. "Dawn has the best sense of smell, so she'll be—"

"Buffy and I are not staying," Dawn said.

The room went silent. Everyone turned to look at the sisters.

"I thought you two came back," Nick said. "You are both here. I don't understand."

"We're here because Jeremy left us an urgent message to call him. Dawn tried calling, but no one answered, so we came out to see what was wrong," Buffy said.

"I called," Dawn added. "And called and called and called. And we decided to come and find out what Jeremy wanted. We asked him last night, but he wouldn't tell us."

"So now that you two know, you both are leaving. Again," Clay said.

Buffy turned on him. "This is Jeremy's problem, not mine or Dawn's. That was the agreement when we left for Toronto. I would stay out of Pack business as long as he took care of the mutt problem around Stonehaven."

"Jeremy called you two for a reason, Buffy," Antonio said, stepping between Clay and Buffy. "We need to find out who this mutt is. Buffy, you kept the dossiers. You know them. That's your job."

Buffy sighed. "That _was_ my job, when Dawn and I were still a part of this Pack."

Nick straightened up, confusion now mixed with alarm. "What does that mean?"

"It means Buffy, Dawn and I have something to discuss in private," Jeremy said. "We'll continue this meeting later."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Nick, Peter and Antonio cleared the room quickly. Clay thumped back into his seat.

"Clayton," Jeremy said.

"I'm staying. This has as much to do with me as it does you. Probably more. If Dawn or the Slayer thinks they can show up, and then walk right back out, after we've been waiting for over a year—"

"You'll do what?" Buffy said, stepping toward him. "Kidnap us and lock us in a hotel room, like you tried to do to us when we said we were leaving?"

"That was four years ago. And I was only trying to convince you both to talk to me before you left."

"Convince? Hah. We'd probably still be there if we hadn't _convinced_ you to set us free by hanging you off the balcony by your ankles. If we'd had any sense, we'd have let go while we had the chance," Dawn said.

"Wouldn't have done any good, darling. I bounce. You can't get rid of me that easily."

"I'm getting rid of you now," Jeremy said. "Out. That's an order."

Clay sighed before hauling himself to his feet and leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

"We need your help," Jeremy said, turning back to the sisters. "Buffy, you've researched the mutts. You took that on as a job. You know more about them than any of us."

"I took on the job when I was part of the Pack. I told you—" Buffy said.

"We need Dawn's nose to find him and your knowledge, Buffy, to identify him," Jeremy cut in. "Then we need your help to get rid of him. It's a tricky situation. Clay's not the one to handle this. We need to proceed with absolute caution. This mutt has killed on our territory and he's insinuated himself into our town. We need to lure him out without calling attention to ourselves or making him panic. You two can do that. Only you two."

"I'm sorry, Jer, but this isn't our problem," Dawn said. "We don't live here anymore. And we don't deal with mutts on your territory. The agreement we all agreed to said …"

"That it was my job, I know. This should never have happened. I wasn't paying enough attention. But that doesn't change the fact that it's happened and we're all in danger because of it—even the two of you. If this mutt continues making trouble, he runs the risk of being caught. If he's caught, what will prevent him from telling the authorities about us? Think about it Buffy, if he tells them about Dawn. While mortal illness and old age can't kill you. You lose your head, you are dead and so is Dawn."

Buffy sighed. "I know. But the thing is that is not what has you worried. It's the fact that he's killing," she said.

"You're right, Buffy," said Jeremy with a sigh. "I've tried to live a peaceful life, as you well know, with humans, even before the agreement you keep reminding me of. But eventually their eyes will turn to us if he is not stopped. Once this is all cleared up, you two can do as you wish. Please."

"And if we wish for you to honor the agreement and we leave the Pack again?" Dawn asked. "Will you honor it?"

"I was angry last night. There's no reason to be in such a rush to make this decision. I've honored the agreement for four years; I've not phoned either of you for anything else. I haven't let Clay contact either of you. I haven't summoned either of you both back for the other Meets. No one else would get that kind of treatment. You both got it because of the agreement, because I couldn't force you to return before the two of you were ready."

"In other words, you're hoping we'll return because we either will grow out of some misplaced childish behavior or we'd need you for something," Dawn said. "Jeremy you know Buffy and I are well over two hundred years old. This is not a passing phase for us. You know as well as we that we can't remain here for the next hundred years before people realize that we don't age."

"I'm asking for your help. Asking, not demanding. Help me solve this problem and you both can go back to Toronto. No one will stop you." Jeremy glanced toward the door where they knew Clay was listening. "I'll give you two some time to think about it. Come see me when you both are ready."

Buffy and Dawn stayed in the study for over an hour discussing what they were going to do. Neither of them liked the situation that they were being placed in. But they knew Jeremy had been right, after Dawn had been bitten she had become the best tracker the Pack had. And Buffy, because she was the Slayer, she had been able to find the werewolves that were causing problems and had maintained the dossiers that listed each of the problem werewolves.

"I think," Buffy said. "It might be time to think about changing our identities again. After we're done here, we need to disappear into the system."

"Maybe," agreed Dawn.

Buffy and Dawn told Jeremy they'd stay long enough to help them find and kill this mutt on the condition that, when it was over, they could leave without him or Clay trying to stop them. That it was time to change their identities and disappear even from Jeremy and the Pack. Jeremy reluctantly agreed. Then he went to tell the others, taking Clay out back for an extended explanation.

The plan was twofold. For the first part, the Pack, minus Jeremy, would split up and search for the mutt. If they found the mutt's lair, Buffy or Dawn would determine whether or not the mutt could be killed safely. If it wasn't a safe kill, they'd gather information to plot the killing for another night. The second part would come into play if the mutt couldn't be killed safely.

After lunch, Dawn and Buffy went to the study to check the dossiers, hoping to find something that might help to figure out which mutt was causing trouble in Bear Valley. The dossiers were missing from their location in Jeremy's hidden wall safe. They would have to wait for Jeremy to return from a run before they could ask him where they were.

As Dawn closed the safe she saw The Legacy. It was a book that supposedly told the history of werewolves, particularly of the Pack.

As the sisters looked at the book, a pair of hands grabbed Dawn under the armpits and hoisted her off the chair.

"Wake up!" Antonio said, tickling Dawn as Buffy smiled, then dropping her back onto the chair and doing the same to Buffy. He then leaned over Dawn's shoulder and picked up The Legacy. "Just in time, Pete. Five more minutes of reading this and they'd have been in a coma."

Peter walked in front of the sisters and took the book from Antonio, and made a face. "Are we such bad company that you two would rather hide out in here reading that old thing?"

Antonio grinned. "I'd guess it's not us their avoiding, but a certain blond-haired tornado. Jeremy sent him to the store with Nicky, so you two can come out of hiding now."

"Actually we came in here to look at the dossiers," said Buffy.

"Ah," said Peter. "We came to ask if you two felt like taking a walk. Stretch our legs, get caught up."

Antonio lifted first Dawn and then Buffy by the armpits again, this time putting them on their feet as Buffy stood up. "Actually, Peter, they were just going to come find us and tell us how much they missed us and are dying to get caught up."

"We'll go," Buffy said. "By the way have either of you seen the dossiers? There not where they should have been. We figured Jeremy must have them. We were hoping maybe they'd help us figure out who could be behind this. Do you guys have any ideas?"

"Plenty," Antonio said. "Now come for a walk and we'll tell you." They walked out of the house and headed into the forest. "My money's on Daniel."

"Daniel?" Peter frowned. "How'd you figure that?"

Antonio lifted a hand and started counting off reasons on his fingers. "One, he used to be Pack so he knows how dangerous this kind of killing on our territory is, that we can't—and won't—leave town. Two, he hates Clay. Three, he hates Jeremy. Four, he hates all of us—with the exception of Dawn and Buffy, who, conveniently, weren't at Stonehaven to be affected by the mess, which I'm sure Daniel knew. Five, he really hates Clay. Six—oh, wait, other hand—six, he's a murderous cannibalizing bastard. Seven, did I mention he chose to strike when Dawn and Buffy weren't around? Eight, he really, really, REALLY hates Clay. Nine, he's sworn undying revenge against the entire Pack. How many more reasons do you need?"

"How about one that involves utter suicidal stupidity. Daniel doesn't meet that qualification. No offense, Tonio, but I think you're seeing Daniel in this because you want to see him in it. He makes a convenient fall guy—not that I wouldn't like to help him with that final fall. But if you're placing wagers—small wagers, please, I don't have your capital to blow—I'd go with Zachary Cain. Definitely dumb enough. Big brute probably woke up one morning, thought, Hey, why don't I kill some girl on Pack territory for a kick. Probably wondered why he hadn't thought of it before. Because it's stupid, stupid."

"It could be someone minor," Buffy said. "One of the bit players tired of being banished to the wings. Any mutts been making a ruckus lately?"

"Petty stuff," Antonio said. "None of the minor leagues making any major plays. Of the big four, Daniel, Cain, and Jimmy Koenig have been quiet. Karl Marsten killed a mutt in Miami last winter, but I don't think this Bear Valley problem could be him. Not his M.O., unless he's taken up not only killing humans but eating them. Unlikely."

"Who'd he kill?" Dawn asked.

"Ethan Ritter," Peter said. "Range dispute. Clean kill. Thorough disposal. Typical Marsten stuff. We only know about it because I was passing through Florida earlier this spring on a tour. Marsten caught up with me, took me to dinner, told me he'd offed Ritter so you could strike his name from your dossiers, Buffy. Had a nice little chat, rang up an astronomic bill, which he paid for in cash. He asked if we'd heard from you two, sent his regards to everyone."

"I'm surprised he doesn't send Christmas cards," Antonio said. "I can see them now. Tasteful, embossed vellum cards, the best he can steal. Little notes in perfect penmanship, 'Happy holidays. Hope everyone is well. I sliced up Ethan Ritter in Miami and scattered his remains in the Atlantic. Best wishes for the New Year. Karl.'"

Peter laughed. "That guy has never figured out which side of our fence he's on."

"Oh, he's figured it out," Dawn said. "That's exactly why he takes us out to fancy dinners and updates us on his mutt kills. He's hoping _we'll_ forget which side of the fence he's on."

"Not likely," Antonio said. "A mutt is a mutt and Karl Marsten is definitely a mutt. A dangerous mutt."

Buffy nodded. "But, as you said, not likely to be eating humans in Bear Valley. I'm as biased as you, but I really like the idea of Daniel. Do we have his last known whereabouts?"

"No one's been keeping track," Peter said. "Not since you two left."

After dinner, Buffy and Dawn were heading to their room when Nicholas pounced out of Clay's room, grabbed first one sister and then the other and dragged them inside the room.

He released Dawn and threw Buffy onto the bed and jumped on top of her, pulling her shirt from her jeans to tickle her stomach. He grinned suggestively, white teeth glinting beneath his dark mustache.

"Looking forward to tonight?" he asked, running his fingers from Buffy's belly button farther under her shirt. She slapped his hand back down to her stomach.

"We aren't supposed to have fun," Dawn said from behind Nick. "This is a serious matter, requiring a serious attitude."

Clay laughed as he came out of the bathroom. "You can almost say that with a straight face, darling. I'm impressed." Dawn rolled her eyes and said nothing. "Come on. Admit it. You two are looking forward to it." Buffy and Dawn shrugged. "Liars. You two are. How often do we get to run in town? An officially sanctioned mutt hunt."

Buffy let out a sigh. She could feel the Slayer inside her itching for the hunt.


	9. Chapter 9: Hunt

**Chapter 9: Hunt**

They split up for the drive. Antonio and Peter headed for the west side of town. Buffy, Dawn, Nick, and Clay headed for the east end. Clay dropped Buffy and Dawn off behind a medical clinic that had closed at five. Dawn Changed between two Dumpsters that reeked of disinfectant as Buffy threw her sister's clothes into a backpack she carried.

The sisters started in a subdivision. They stole along the front of a set of townhouses, hidden between the brickwork and foundation shrubbery. At each doorway, Buffy watched as her sister stuck her muzzle out and sniffed.

A few minutes later, a howl rang out. Clay. He'd found something. When a second howl came, the sisters used it to pinpoint his location, and then started to run. They had found early on that Buffy's slayer abilities were a match for the werewolf. She had no problem keeping up with Dawn.

At the junction of two streets, Dawn smelled a werewolf; she looked at Buffy and made the motion of smelling something, her sister nodded in understanding. She gazed down the street. The trail while old, was in the general direction of where they'd heard Clay, so they changed course and followed the mutt's trail.

The scent led to a single-level brick house with aluminum-sided additions on the back. Judging by the three mailboxes out front, there were three apartments. The house was dark. Dawn sniffed along the sidewalk. It was inundated with werewolf scent and she couldn't tell where one trail ended and the next began.

"Hello, Clay," Buffy said with a roll of her eyes as Clay came up beside them, in human form and not a stitch on.

"Hello, Slayer," Clay drawled as he reached down and ran his hand through the fur behind Dawn's head.

Dawn snapped at Clay as she dove into the bushes. "You know," Buffy said as she followed Dawn over to the bushes and put Dawn's clothes on the ground, "Dawn doesn't like it when you pet her."

"Buffy's right," Dawn muttered as she stepped out of the bushes dressed. "When I'm Changed, either you stay Changed or you respect my privacy. Petting me doesn't help."

"I wasn't 'petting' you, Dawn. Christ, even the smallest gesture—" Clay stopped himself. "This is the mutt's place, the rear apartment, but he isn't here."

"You've been inside?" Buffy asked.

Clay shook his head. "I was checking things out and waiting for you two."

Dawn looked at his naked body. "I don't suppose you thought to get clothing while you were standing around."

"You expect me to find something on a clothesline at this hour? Sorry, darling."

"No, but you could have handed me a set of clothes and I could have added it to the bag," Buffy said as she showed him the backpack. They walked around to the rear apartment door, it was locked. Buffy did as she had done in the past she broke the lock with a sharp twist of the handle. She'd barely pushed the door open a crack when the fetid odor of rotting meat hit her.

The door opened into a living room, it was fairly obvious once they stepped inside that the mutt had killed there. Buffy and Dawn searched the main room, checking everywhere they could get to for some kind of ID. Something they might be able to use to identify the mutt. There was nothing. They went into the bedroom as Clay searched under the bed.

Clay pulled out a hunk of hair with the scalp still attached, tossed it aside, and kept searching for something more interesting.

"Nothing," Clay said. "How about you two?"

"Same. He knows enough to keep his place clear of ID," Dawn said.

Clay nodded. "But not enough to keep his hands off the locals."

"Hereditary, but young," Dawn said. "He smells new, but no new bitten werewolf could have that kind of experience so he must be young. Young and cocky. Daddy's taught him the basics, but he hasn't got enough experience to keep his nose clean or stay off Pack territory."

"Well, he's not going to live long enough to gain that experience," Clay said. "His first screw-up was his last."

They were doing a last sweep of the apartment when Nick swung through the door, panting. "I heard you call," he said. "You found his apartment? Is he here?"

"No," Buffy said.

"Can we wait?" Nick asked, eyes hopeful.

Buffy and Dawn glanced at each other, and then shook their heads. "He'd smell us before he even got to the door," Buffy said.

"Jeremy said to kill only if we can do it safely," Dawn added. "We can't. Unless he's a complete novice, he'll pick up our scents when he gets back. Besides Buffy's is very distinctive, remember?"

Most werewolves like vampires could smell there was something different about Buffy's blood. It was how they knew instinctively she was the Slayer.

"With any luck, he'll take a hint and get out of town," Dawn continued. "If so, you all can hunt him later and kill him off Pack territory. Definitely safer."

Clay reached over to the nightstand, where he'd put things that he'd pulled from under the bed. He handed Dawn two matchbooks. "Bet I can guess where the mutt spends his evenings," he said. "If he's too dumb to blow town before we come after him tomorrow night, we can probably find him scouting for dinner at the local meat markets."

The sisters looked at the matchbooks. One was for a local bar. The other was for someplace neither of them recognized. They memorized the address just in case.

"Back to get our clothes," Clay said. "Nick and I left ours across Main near where we dropped you two off, so we can run together most of the way. You want to Change in the bedroom? We'll stay in here."

"Change?" Buffy asked with a frown.

"Yeah, Change," Clay said. "You two have the luxury of clothes. But Nick and I … well it might get a bit tricky, streaking across the highway."

"There's clothing here," Dawn said.

Clay snorted. "I'd rather be caught naked than wearing some mutt's clothes." When neither sister replied, he frowned. "Something wrong?"

Buffy sighed. Jeremy's orders had been clear. Dawn, Clay and Nick were to return to the car in human form. Still Clay had a point, Clay and Nick would have had a lot of explaining to do, as well as very likely a night in jail for indecent exposure. "No," Buffy said as she looked at her sister. "Clay's right. Being Changed will be less of a risk than being seen nude."

Dawn nodded as she stepped into the bedroom, she left the door open a crack and handed her clothes to Buffy through it. Buffy then walked outside and waited. Most werewolves didn't like it when anyone watched them change.

Buffy herself liked to give Dawn some privacy, but she was the only one that Dawn ever let watch as she Changed.

They slowly made their way back across town. Buffy and Dawn had taken the lead when a garbage can crashed at the end of the alley. All four of them skidded to a halt.

"What the fuck are you doing?" said a young male voice. "Watch where you're going and get your ass in gear. If my old man finds I snuck out, he'll nail my hide to the woodshed door."

Another male voice only gave a drunken giggle in reply as two heads came into view, moving into the alley. Dawn inched into the shadows until her rump hit the brick wall. Across from her, Clay, Buffy and Nick retreated into a doorway and disappeared into the darkness.

Buffy looked from Dawn to the approaching boys. "Dawn," she whispered," you are exposed."

But it was too late to move. Dawn could only hope the boys were too drunk to pay attention as they stumbled past. As the boys passed her, Dawn crouched, flattening herself to the ground. Their boots took three more steps, propelling them just past her hiding spot. Then the dark-haired kid tripped. Falling, he twisted, grabbed the side of a garbage bin, and saw Dawn. He blinked once. Then he tugged his friend's jacket sleeve and pointed.

The redhead turned and ran down the alley, tripping and stumbling through the trash. The other boy's eyes followed his friend. Then, instead of bolting after him, his hand shot out into the garbage pile. When he pulled back, the moonlight glinted off a broken bottle, the fear on his face replaced by a grin of power.

Dawn happened to glance to her side and saw Clay in a crouch, she let out a very low growl, one the boy didn't hear but her sister thanks for her Slayer abilities did. Buffy grabbed Clay just as he was about to leap. They tumbled for a small moment as Buffy tossed him away from her toward the end of the alley. Clay hit the ground running, Buffy, Dawn and Nick at his heels.

They got to Stonehaven after two. Antonio and Peter were still out. The house was silent and dark. Jeremy hadn't waited up. Buffy, Clay and Dawn raced for the steps, Nick at their heels. They hit the top of the stairs and ran for Jeremy's room at the end of the hall. Before they could get there, the door creaked open.

"Did you find him?" Jeremy asked.

"We found where he's staying," Buffy said. "He's—"

"Did you kill him?"

"Nah," Clay said. "Too risky. But we'll—"

Jeremy nodded. "Good. Tell me the rest in the morning."

The door closed. Buffy and Dawn looked at each other. Then they shrugged and headed back down the hall.

"I'll just have to beat you to it tomorrow," Dawn said to Clay as her sister rolled her eyes.

Clay pounced, knocking Dawn onto the hardwood floor. He stayed on top of Dawn, pinning her arms to the floor and grinning down. "You think so? How about we play for it? You name the game."

"Poker," Nick said.

Clay twisted to look up at him. "And what stakes are you playing for?"

Nick grinned. "The usual. It's been a long time. You up for a game, Buffy?"

"I think I'm going to head downstairs. Work off a little excess energy. The Slayer doesn't like a hunt with no kill, remember?" Buffy said as she headed for the stairs.

Clay nodded as he got up, and lifted Dawn into his arms. When he, Nick and Dawn got to his room, he tossed her onto the bed, and then headed to the bar to mix drinks.

"What makes you think I'm going to play at all?" Dawn asked as she sat up.

"You missed us," Nick said.

"Whiskey and soda?" Clay called.

"Perfect," Nick said.

Clay didn't ask what Dawn wanted; he knew she, like her sister, rarely ever drank alcohol. He held a cold glass as Nick took it. "Go find the cards," he said.

"Where are they?" Nick asked.

"Look," Clay said. "That'll keep you busy for a while." He sat down next to Dawn and handed her a soda. She took a sip. He gulped his own drink down, and then leaned over her. "Perfect night, wasn't it?"

"It could have been." Dawn smiled up at him. "But you were there."

"Which means it was only the beginning of a perfect night," Clay said as he leaned over Dawn, his fingers brushing against her thigh and slid over her hip.

Suddenly Clay was pulled off her and thrown clear across the room. Dawn looked up and saw Buffy. "Buffy?" she said.

"I decided I wanted to play one hand," Buffy replied before looking at Clay and growling. "You stay away from my sister."

Clay got up and looked at Buffy, he knew not to get on her bad side and he knew that he was very dangerously close to doing just that.

Nick came back just at the moment. "Playtime…" he said as he noticed Buffy. "Buffy?"

"No one lays a hand on my sister. You all got that?" Buffy asked.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

As Dawn watched her sister and Clay face off she thought back to the first time the two of them had butted head. Buffy had accused Clay of biting Dawn. Jeremy of course had said it wasn't possible, that he would have known if Clay had done it.

As Dawn thought about that night, another night seemed to float to her consciousness that had long since been buried. She had told Clay how she and Buffy were immortal, how she was a witch and her entire life's story. Clay had told her he had a way for them to stay together. He had invited her to Stonehaven to meet Jeremy. Jeremy had tried to find a way to get rid of her before she had found out about them. She had started telling Jeremy about being immortal and a witch when Clay had entered the room in wolf form. And before she had known it he had bit her. She had yelped, more in surprise than in pain. She remembered that Jeremy had chased Clay out of the room.

"You bit me," Dawn whispered as Buffy looked to her.

"What?" Buffy asked as she looked at Clay.

"Clay bit me," Dawn said. "I was sick, feverish, and delirious for two days; you were in Toronto getting our new identities set up and didn't know I was sick. You were going to come back after Christmas and we were going to find a way to tell Clay that you and I are immortal. Then on Christmas Eve I told Clay everything. A couple days later we were here in Stonehaven. Jeremy tried to get me to leave and Clay bit me. Jeremy must have dumped me back in our apartment. I didn't remember anything of the last week; I had assumed it was because I had been sick. Then you came back and we thought we would approach Clay and tell him the truth, except he was nowhere to be found, his apartment had been cleaned out and had told the university that he could not return the next semester. Then I went through my first Change and Jeremy approached us. Told us that he was a werewolf and could smell that I was one also. Promised to find out who did it, who had bit me. He never did, because he already knew."

Buffy turned and glared at Clay as she led her sister out of the room and into their own locking the door behind them.

It was nearly noon by the time either sister got dressed.

"Dawn? Buffy?" Clay said as he rattled the door handle. It was still locked. The only lock in the house Clay didn't dare break. "I heard you both get up," he said as the sisters looked at each other. Had he really just said Buffy instead of Slayer? "Let me in. I want to talk to the both of you. Come on." The door rattled again this time harder. "Let me in. We all need to talk."

Dawn walked across the room, opened the window, and swung out, hitting the ground below with a thud as Buffy followed. They headed around the house and went in the front as Jeremy and Antonio came down the hall.

"The stairs aren't challenging enough anymore?" Jeremy asked.

Antonio laughed. "Challenge has nothing to do with it, Jer. I'd say it's the big bad wolf huffing and puffing at their door up there." He shouted up the stairs. "You can stop shaking the house apart now, Clayton. You've been outmaneuvered. They are both down here."

Jeremy shook his head and steered Buffy and Dawn toward the kitchen. By the time Clay came down, they were halfway through breakfast. Buffy decided to confront Jeremy later in private about what she had learned the night before. She wanted to know why Jeremy had lied to them.

When they were done eating, Buffy and Dawn told the others what they'd found the night before. As they talked, Jeremy scanned the newspapers. They were wrapping up when Jeremy put down the paper and looked at the sisters.

"Is that everything?" Jeremy asked as Dawn shook her head. "Are you two quite certain?"

"Uh—yes," Dawn said. "I think so."

Jeremy folded the paper with maximum bustle and delay, and then laid it out on the table for everyone to see. The headline on the front page read: WILD DOGS SPOTTED IN CITY ATTACKING WOMAN IN ALLEY.

"Oh," Dawn said with a glance at Buffy. "Whoops."

Buffy let out a sigh. "Yes they were spotted. And the woman who was supposedly attacked was myself. If it hadn't been for me, Clay would have done something he might have regretted later."

"And why were they together, let alone Changed?" Jeremy asked as Peter and Antonio slipped from the table.

"We were returning from the mutt's apartment," Dawn said as she looked at her sister. "The kids walked into the alley. They saw me."

"Dawn didn't have enough room to hide," Clay interjected. "One of them grabbed a broken bottle. I lost it. I was about ready to leap at them. Buffy stopped me threw me away from them and we took off. No one got hurt."

"We all got hurt," Jeremy said. "I told you to split up."

"We did," Dawn said. "Like I said, this was after we found the apartment."

"I told you to Change to human after you found him," Jeremy said.

"And do what? Walk to the car butt-naked?" Buffy said. "You may think that is acceptable, Jeremy. But the outside world has rules. I made a judgment call last night. Clay and Nick had left their clothes back where they had Changed. I had Dawn's. I always carry a backpack when she is Changed and I'm with her. It was safer for Nick and Clay to Change back and head for their clothes. Far better than if they were spotted by the cops, arrested for indecent exposure and put in jail. As we all know a werewolf won't survive in jail for long without being discovered. And as we all know thanks to the Slayer I can keep up with you all when Changed, Dawn couldn't, not in human form, so I had her Change again so she could stay caught up as we made our way back."

Jeremy's mouth twitched. A full minute of silence followed. Then he got to his feet, motioned for Dawn and Buffy to follow, and walked from the room and out of the house as the sisters followed. He led them into the woods, taking the walking paths. They'd gone nearly a half-mile before he said anything. "Dawn, Buffy, you both know we're in danger," he said.

"We all know—" Dawn said with a glance at her sister.

"I'm not sure you two do. Maybe you both have been away from the Pack too long. Or maybe you think because you both moved to Toronto this doesn't affect either of you," Jeremy said.

"Are you suggesting Dawn or I would purposely sabotage—" Buffy started.

"Of course not," Jeremy cut in. "I'm saying that maybe you two need to be reminded how important this is to all of us, no matter where we live. People in Bear Valley are looking for a killer. That killer is a werewolf. Dawn, I and the rest of the Pack are werewolves, Buffy. If he's caught, how long do you think it'll be before the town comes knocking at our door? If they find this mutt alive and figure out what he is, he'll talk. You were right about that in there; a werewolf would be discovered in jail, even if he didn't talk. Anyways he's not in Bear Valley by accident. Any mutt with a father knows we live around here. If this one is discovered, he'll lead the authorities here, to Clayton and me and, through us, to the rest of the Pack, and eventually, to every werewolf, including any who are trying to deny any connection with the Pack, such as Dawn and yourself, Buffy. Just because you are not a werewolf, Buffy, doesn't mean you would not be at risk. You are not only a member of the Pack, even if you aren't a werewolf. But you are also a target for someone after Dawn because she was a werewolf. Just as someone would use Dawn to get to you because you are a Slayer, the same is true Buffy, for Dawn. They would use you to get to her."

Buffy nodded, she knew he was right about that. How many times back in Sunnydale had Dawn been kidnapped just to get at her? "Don't you think we realize that?" she asked. "While most people will ignore this as is indication from the paper. Not everyone will and some will come after you. We know that."

"I trusted you both to set the tone last night," Jeremy said.

"Then that was your mistake," Dawn snapped. "Buffy and I didn't ask for your trust."

They walked in silence. Buffy wanted to talk about what they had learned last night. But as they walked she realized that Dawn's nose was working overtime.

"Do you smell that?" Dawn asked.

Jeremy sighed. "Dawn. I wish you would—"

"There. Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt, but"—Dawn's nose twitched, picking up a smell in the breeze—"that scent. Do you smell it?"

Jeremy's nostrils flared. He sniffed the breeze impatiently as if he didn't expect to find anything. Then he blinked. He'd smelled it, too.

"What?" Buffy asked. "What do you both smell?"

"Blood," Dawn said as she looked at her sister. "Human blood."


	10. Chapter 10: Trespass

**Chapter 10: Trespass**

Dawn tracked the scent of blood to the east fence line. As they got closer, something else overpowered the smell of blood. Something worse. Decomposing flesh.

They came to a low wooden bridge that crossed a stream. Once on the other side Dawn lost the scent. She backed up and found that it came from under the bridge. Buffy followed her sister's gaze and saw a bare foot, bloated, gray toes pointing at the sky.

Buffy hurried down to the foot and knelt in the icy water of the stream. She found a body of a young boy that reminded her of Warren Mears when Willow had killed him for killing Tara. He was practically skinless. She could tell that the boy hadn't been killed here. That he had been killed elsewhere as there was no sign of blood. She said a silent thank you to Dawn as she remembered when Dawn had given her that bit of knowledge, when they had dealt with the demon called Gnarl.

"We'll have to dispose of it," Jeremy said. "Leave it for now. We'll go back to the house—"

A crash in the bushes stopped him short. Buffy yanked her head from under the bridge her Slayer senses on full alert. Someone was trampling through the undergrowth like a bull rhino. "Go," Buffy whispered but neither Dawn nor Jeremy listened as she rinsed her hands in the stream and scrambled up the bank. She was barely at the top when two men in bright orange hunting vests burst from the forest.

"This is private property," Jeremy said as the two men jumped and spun around. "I said, this is private property."

One man, a stout kid in his late teens, stepped forward. "Yeah, then what are you doing here, buddy?"

The older man grabbed the kid's elbow and pulled him back. "Excuse my son's manners, sir. I'm assuming you're …" He trailed off, searching for a name and coming up blank.

"I own the property, yes," Jeremy said as a man and a woman came up behind the two.

"Yes, sir, the man said. "I understand you own this land, but you see, we've got ourselves a bit of a situation. I'm sure you heard about that girl that got killed a few days ago. Well, it's dogs, sir. Wild dogs. Big ones. Two of our boys from town saw them last night attacking a woman. Then we got a call this morning, saying something had been spotted on the far side of the woods out here around midnight."

"So you're conducting a search," Jeremy said.

The man straightened. "Right, sir. So, if you don't mind—"

"I do mind."

The man blinked. "Yes, but you see, we've got to check things out and—"

"Did you stop at the house to ask permission?" Jeremy asked.

"No, but—"

"Did you phone the house to ask permission?" Jeremy interrupted.

"No, but—"

"Then I'd suggest you go back the way you came and wait for me at the house," Jeremy continued. "If you want to search these woods, you need permission. Under the circumstances, I certainly don't mind granting that permission, but I don't want to worry about running into armed men when I'm taking a walk on my own property."

"We're looking for wild dogs," the woman said. "Not people."

"In the excitement of the hunt, any mistake is possible," Buffy said remembering Faith's mistake. Faith had in the excitement of the hunt accidentally killed the deputy mayor of Sunnydale. It had of course had a profound effect on her sister Slayer, but in the end Faith had redeemed herself when they had fought the First Evil.

"Since this is my land," Jeremy added, "I choose not to take that chance. I use these woods. My family and my guests use these woods. That's why I don't allow hunters up here. Now, if you'll go around to the house, we'll finish our walk and meet you there. I can provide you with maps of the property and warn my guests to stay out of the forest while you're here. Does that sound reasonable?"

"What the hell is going on here?!" Clay said as he barreled out from the forest. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"They're looking for wild dogs," Jeremy said softly.

"Did you miss the fucking signs on the way in?" Clay snarled. "Or is trespassing too goddamned many syllables for you?"

"Clayton," Jeremy warned.

Clay didn't hear him. "This is private property," he said. "Do you understand what that means?"

Jeremy started down from the bridge with Dawn and Buffy at his heels. They were halfway across the clearing when a sound trumpeted from the woods. A baying hound. A dog on a scent and the scent was leading them right to them.

The dog flew from the forest heading straight for them, eyes unseeing, brain bound up with the smell. It got within a yard of them, and then skidded to a halt. Now it smelled something else.

Buffy.

Dawn took a whiff and frowned. The smell of decomposing flesh had soaked into Buffy's clothes.

The dog looked at Buffy and pulled back its lips in a deep growl as it caught the scent it had been following. Dawn met the dog's eyes and bared her teeth trying to get it to attack her instead. It did. The dog leapt. Its teeth clamped around Dawn's forearm.

"Dawn!" Buffy yelled.

Dawn fell to the ground, lifting her arms over her face as if protecting herself. The dog held on tight. As its teeth sunk into her arm, she cried out in pain. Buffy tore the dog away, jerking Dawn's arm with it. Then the dog went limp. Its teeth fell from her arm. She looked up to see Buffy standing over her, hands still wrapped around the dead dog's throat. And then Dawn saw it in Buffy's eyes, a glint. She knew what it meant to see that glint in her sister's eye. Like with a werewolf the Slayer sometimes would break loose.

"Jeremy," Dawn whispered low enough so the hunters couldn't hear. Jeremy followed her gaze and then nodded indicating that he saw it.

Jeremy quickly whispered to Clay telling him to get Buffy out of there. Then he turned toward the hunters and demanded to know who owned the dog and whether its shots were up to date. The searchers' voices drowned out one another as they babbled apologies. Someone tore off to find the dog's owner.

"Come with me, Buffy," Clay said. It was the use of her name that caused the glint to leave her eyes as she let him drag her back toward the house. "Let's get back to the house so we can call a doctor for Dawn?"

Dawn stayed on the ground as she pretended to cry. She didn't want to risk that the searchers would see that her eyes were dry and that she was remarkably composed for a woman savaged by a vicious beast.

After a few minutes, the dog's owner arrived. He promised to pay for medical bills, probably fearing a lawsuit. Jeremy gave him a dressing-down over letting his dog run unleashed on private property. When Jeremy finished, the man assured him that the dog had all its shots, and then quietly hauled away the carcass with the help of the younger man. This time, when Jeremy asked them all to leave the property, no one argued. When the chaos finally fell to silence, Dawn got to her feet.

"How's the arm?" Jeremy asked, walking toward her.

Dawn examined the injury. There were four deep puncture wounds, still seeping blood, but the tearing was minimal. She clenched and unclenched her fist. It hurt like hell, but everything appeared to be in working order. She wasn't too concerned. Like Slayers, werewolves healed quickly.

"Yet another war wound," Dawn said. She remembered her first war wound, the scars that lined her stomach where the demon had cut her for Glory's ritual. She didn't count the scar from the self-inflicted wound on her arm as a war wound, where she had cut herself when she was questioning if she was real.

"Hopefully the last," Jeremy said dryly, taking Dawn's arm to examine the damage. "It could have been worse, I suppose. Come with me to the house and we'll get your arm cleaned up. We also need to make sure Buffy is alright."

"Yeah," said Dawn. "And I think it's time we find out why the Slayer part of her feels the need to protect me anytime I'm threatened."

"Agreed," Jeremy said, he did not tell her the reason he thought that was. He was sure that Buffy saw Dawn as more than just a sister. "I know very little about Slayers, only what the demon population has told me as they passed through. But it shouldn't affect her in that way, I wouldn't think. Do you think maybe when you both drank from the Fountain that it did something to her?"

"I don't know," said Dawn. "According to Jack. There is price to pay for immortality."

"Yes there is," Jeremy said. "Vampires are dead and our longevity comes from being werewolves."

When they got back to the house Clay wanted to talk to Jeremy and Dawn. Dawn found an excuse and hightailed it up to her and Buffy's room where she found Buffy lying on the bed.

"Are you okay?" Dawn asked.

Buffy sighed and sat up, nodding. "Yeah. I'm scared Dawn."

"I know," Dawn said. "We have to find why you feel the need to protect me every time I'm threatened. And before you say it's because I'm your little sister. I don't think that's the case, as while yes you protected me before I jumped off that tower, you also know that I am a capable woman that can defend herself. Jeremy has said he will help us to find out, though he did have a suggestion."

"What?" Buffy asked.

"The Fountain," Dawn said. "Remember Jack said that immortality came with a price. What if my ending up a werewolf is mine and you going into Slayer mode easier than you used to is yours."

Buffy thought about it for a few moments and then nodded. "That would make sense. It would want to balance out the immortality with something right? So what if to balance it out it gave us each something that would make us a target?"

After a late lunch, Jeremy took Clay for a walk to give him instructions for that night. Buffy and Dawn had already received theirs. Clay, Dawn and Buffy were going after the mutt together. Buffy would find the mutt and lure him out to a safe place where Dawn and Clay would finish him off.

While the others were cleaning up the dishes, Buffy and Dawn slipped away. They wandered through the house and ended up in Jeremy's studio. Dawn thumbed through a stack of canvases leaning against the wall, scenes of wolves playing and singing and sleeping together, curled up in heaps of intertwining limbs and varicolored fur.

Jeremy painted human models too, though only members of the Pack. One of his favorites was on the wall by the window. In it, Dawn and Buffy were standing on the Black Pearl, with their backs to the viewer staring off into the distance. They were in period dress; and next to them stood Jack Sparrow. Dawn had recalled with detail what Jack had looked like so that Jeremy could paint him accurately. It was one of the very few that Jeremy hadn't painted a pack of wolves somewhere in the painting. He had said he wanted to paint it just as Buffy and Dawn remembered it.

"Ah-ha," Nick called from the doorway. "So this is where you two are hiding. Phone call for you both. It's Logan."

They were out the door so fast they nearly knocked over a pile of paintings. As Nick led the sisters down the hall toward the study, Clay walked through the back door. He didn't see them. The sisters slipped into the study and shut the door as they heard Clay asking Nick where they were. Nick made some noncommittal answer.

Dawn picked up the receiver and held it between her and Buffy. "Hello?"

"Dawnie!" Logan's voice boomed through a blanket of static.

"Hey, Logan," Buffy said.

"Hey Buffy. Dang I can't believe you both are actually there. How's it going? Still alive?"

"So far, but it's only been two days." Dawn said as the line buzzed, went silent for a second, then hissed back to life. "Either L.A. has worse phone service than Tibet or you're on a mobile phone. Where are you?"

"Driving to the courthouse. Listen, things here are wrapping up fast. We got a settlement. That's why I called."

"You're coming back?" Buffy asked.

His laugh sizzled across the line. "Eager to see me, Buff? I'd be flattered if I didn't suspect your concern didn't want me to act as a buffer between Clayton and the two of you. Yes, I'm coming back. I'm not sure exactly when, but it should be tonight or tomorrow morning. We've got to finish up work here and I'll catch the next plane out."

"Great. Buffy and I can't wait to see you," Dawn said as Buffy nodded in agreement.

"Likewise, though I'm still miffed you two wouldn't let me come to Toronto at Christmas. I was looking forward to burnt gingerbread. Another great holiday tradition lost."

"Maybe this year," Buffy said. "If we are still there."

"Still there? What do you …" The phone crackled and went silent, then clicked back. "—lo?"

"We're still here," Dawn said.

"I'd better sign off before I lose you. Don't wait up for me. I'll see you both tomorrow and I'll whisk the two of you away to lunch so you can relax for a while, catch your breath. Okay?"

"Definitely okay," Dawn and Buffy said.

"We'll see you then," Dawn said.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

After dinner, Dawn and Buffy prepared for the evening. The choice of clothing posed a problem. If Buffy was going to hook this mutt, she needed to pull on the mask that worked best with werewolves: Buffy the sexual predator.

Buffy picked out a silk dress that Dawn had bought her shortly after their move to Toronto. Buffy had brought it thinking they might see a Broadway play before returning to Toronto. As Dawn helped Buffy with her makeup, Clay walked in and gave Buffy's outfit the once-over. "Looks good," he said.

At nine they left, taking Jeremy's Explorer. Their first stop was the mutt's apartment. Dawn parked at the McDonald's behind the house, and then they circled the block. The apartment was dark. The mutt was out. They then searched the bars, but came up empty. The fourth place on their list was the one without a name, only the address the sisters had memorized from the matchbook. The address led them to an abandoned warehouse. Judging by the music booming from within, it wasn't _abandoned_ tonight.

"What's up with this?" Clay asked.

"It's a rave. Not quite a bar, not quite a private party," Dawn said.

"Huh. Can you get in?" Clay said looking at Buffy.

"Are you kidding?" Buffy asked as she looked at her sister and smiled.

"Go on then," Clay said. "Dawn and I'll take up our posts at a window."

Buffy went around to the back of the building. The entrance was a basement door down a flight of steps. When she knocked, a bald man opened the door. A tilt of her head and a promise in her smile and she was in with a handful of free drink tickets.

The hallway led to a massive open room, roughly rectangular. A second-story catwalk had been converted into a narrow balcony with a makeshift set of stairs and no second-level railing. Buffy's Slayer senses were tingling. The mutt was there. She let her Slayer senses guide her as she weaved in and out of the crowd. Her sense led her to a person. He looked familiar, but Buffy hadn't committed all the photos in the Pack's dossiers to memory. She resisted the urge to go to him, she wanted him to find her.

Knowing he'd smell her eventually, Buffy turned in a drink ticket for a Coke, she found a table near the dance floor, and waited. Buffy took a few sips of her drink, and then glanced toward the mutt's table. He was gone.

"Slayer."

Not turning, Buffy knew who it was instantly. It was the mutt. She settled into her chair, took another sip of her drink and continued watching the dance floor. He moved around the table, looked at her, and smiled. Then he pulled out a chair.

"May I sit?" he asked.

"No." Buffy said as he started to sit. "I said no, didn't I?" She hooked the chair with her foot and yanked it into the table.

"I'm Scott," he said. "Scott Brandon."

The name tickled the back of Buffy's mind. She mentally tried to pull forward his page from the Pack's dossier, but couldn't. She should have done her homework before she left. She laughed mentally. How times had changed. Back in Sunnydale she hated doing research. But that had changed in the last two hundred years with it just being her and Dawn. So that meant she had to help Dawn with it.

Buffy sipped her drink again, and then looked at him over the rim. "Do you have any idea what happens to mutts who trespass on Pack territory?"

"Should I? And why do you care?"

Buffy ignored the question. "So, what brings you to Bear Valley? The paper mill hasn't been hiring in years, or so I'm told anyways. So I hope you're not looking for work."

"Work?" He smiled. "Nah, I'm not much for work. I'm looking for fun. Our kind of fun."

Buffy stared at him for a long minute, then got to her feet and walked away. Brandon came after her and grabbed her elbow. With Slayer strength she yanked away and whirled to face him.

"I was talking to _you_ , Slayer," Brandon said.

"So?" Buffy asked as he grabbed her by both arms and slammed her back against the wall. She was going to throw him off, but she couldn't afford a scene. Too many witnesses would turn their attention toward her if she started brawling with him. And that was something she didn't need.

Brandon leaned toward Buffy. "You are so beautiful, Slayer. And do you know what you smell like to me?" He inhaled and closed his eyes. "A bitch in heat. So intoxicating. You and I could have a lot of fun together."

"I don't think you'd like my kind of fun," Buffy said.

His smile turned predatory. "I've heard you and your sister both don't get much fun in your lives. You both have got this Pack breathing down your necks, smothering you both with all their stupid rules and laws. Women like you two deserve better. You both need someone to teach you what it's like to kill, really kill. A thinking, breathing, conscious human. Have you ever seen someone's eyes when they know they are about to die, at that moment when they realize you _are_ death. That's power, Buffy. True power. I can show you both that tonight."

Keeping hold of Buffy's arms, he moved aside to show her the crowd. "Pick someone, Buffy. Pick anyone. Tonight they die. Tonight they're yours. How does that make you feel?"

Buffy said nothing. She knew how it made her feel. She had taken too many lives in the last two hundred years most of them during Jack's time. While being a pirate had been fun she had not like what she had to do to stay alive.

Brandon continued, "Pick someone and imagine it. Close your eyes. See yourself leading them out, taking them into the woods, and ripping out their throat. Can you see their eyes? Can you feel the blood, everywhere, soaking you, the power of life flowing out at your feet? It won't be enough. It never is. But I'll be there. I'll make it enough. I'll fuck you right there, in the pool of their blood. Can you imagine that?"

Buffy smiled up at him and said nothing. Instead, she slid a finger down his chest and over his stomach. For a moment, she toyed with the button on his fly, then slowly slid her hand under his shirt and stroked his stomach, tracing circles around his belly button. And then she pressed hard with just the tip of her fingernail digging into his skin, adding in Slayer strength to the point she nearly drew blood.

"Can you feel that?" Buffy whispered in his ear. "If you don't step away right now, I'm going to rip out your guts and feed them to you. That's my kind of fun."

Brandon jerked back. Buffy held him tight with her free hand and dug her nails into his stomach, feeling them pop through skin. His eyes widened and he yelped, but the roaring music swallowed his cry. Buffy realized instantly that she had let the game stretch on too long. He was in the midst of a fear induced Change.

Buffy grabbed Brandon by the arm and dragged him into the nearest corridor. She was almost at the end of the hallway when she realized there wasn't an exit, only two bathroom doors. She glanced back at Brandon, hoping his Change hadn't progressed beyond the point where it could be fluffed off as a physical deformity. No such luck. A man stepped from the bathroom. Buffy spun Brandon around and saw a storage room door a few feet away. Shoving him ahead of her, she sprinted to the door, then snapped the lock, opened the door, and thrust Brandon inside.

From behind the closed door, there was a deafening roar of pain, one that even the music down the hall couldn't drown out. Two passing women turned and stared.

"My boyfriend," Buffy said, trying to smile. "He's sick. A bad batch. New dealer."

One of the women looked at the closed door. "Maybe you should get him to a hospital," she said, but continued walking, advice dispensed, and duty done.

"Dawn," Buffy whispered. "Where are you?"

A crash echoed from inside the storage room. Brandon was done with his Change and was trying to get out. Buffy had to stop him. Another crash resounded from the room, followed by the sound of splintering wood. Then silence.

Buffy yanked open the door. Tattered scraps of clothing covered the floor. On the south wall was a second door leading back into the warehouse. In the middle of the cheap plywood was a gaping hole.


	11. Chapter 11: Chaos

**Chapter 11: Chaos**

Buffy raced into the main room. She headed toward the dance floor just as she heard Brandon roar. Then came the first scream. Then the thunder of a hundred people stampeding for the exit.

The stampede really didn't help matters, especially when Buffy's goal lay in the exact opposite direction of the human flow. She cut through the crowd, pushing people aside with Slayer strength. Glass shattered overhead. She looked up to see Dawn's feet shooting through a high window near the bar followed by Clay. Clay and Dawn climbed onto the bar and surveyed the crowd. When they saw Buffy, Clay waved her over. She pointed deeper into the throng, where she assumed Brandon was. Clay shook his head and motioned again. She picked an angle roughly in line with the crowd flow and made her way toward him.

"Love that entrance," Buffy shouted as she climbed onto the bar next to her sister.

"Have you seen the front door, Buffy?" Dawn asked. "I'd need a blowtorch to cut through the crowd. The only other exit is bricked over."

Buffy looked above the crowd. "So Brandon's not back in that corner?"

"Who?" Clay and Dawn asked.

"The mutt," said Buffy. "Is he there?"

"Oh, he's there all right. But you're wasting your energy trying to get to him," Clay said.

As the crowd parted Buffy spotted Brandon, he'd fully changed into a wolf. Then they saw that a man lay in crash position on the floor. His clothing was shredded and drenched with blood. He was motionless, obviously dead, but Brandon wasn't leaving him alone.

He leapt at the man, grabbed his foot, and spun him in a circle. Then he danced back, tail high. He crouched and mock-lunged, then feinted to the side. They noticed that the man had been ripped open and that is intestines were hanging out. As they watched the man rocked, as if trying to flip back on his stomach to protect himself.

"Oh my goddess," Dawn whispered. "He's not dead."

Brandon leapt at his prey again and sank his teeth into the man's scalp. He yanked him up, tossed him aside, and pranced away again.

"He's not even trying to kill him," Dawn said.

"Why would he?" Clay said. "He's having fun. While he's busy, I'll do some scouting. Give me five minutes. When the crowd clears, make your move, Dawn. Drive him toward that side hall that Buffy came out of. I'll be waiting." He jumped off the bar and vanished into the mob.

Dawn and Buffy looked back at Brandon torturing his prey. "It's like he's conscious of what he's doing but the wolf is in control," Buffy said.

"I think you might be right Buffy," said Dawn.

As Buffy watched Brandon she remembered where she had seen his face, heard his name, and it wasn't in the Pack's werewolf dossiers. She had caught a news program that had a piece on a killer in North Carolina who had gone to prison. She looked at Dawn and frowned.

Dawn saw the look on Buffy's face. "What?"

"We said was hereditary, remember?" said Buffy as Dawn nodded. "He's not. He was bitten, recently."

"But that doesn't make sense though, Buffy," Dawn said. "If he had just been bitten how would he know about the Pack? Only hereditary wolves are supposed to know about the Pack. The only reason we even know about the Pack was because I was bitten by Clay. You are the only non-wolf to ever know about the Pack."

"There is something else," Buffy said. "I remembered seeing a news report about him on TV. He was in prison for murder." Then something else occurred to her. "He told me things that he shouldn't have known. He had mentioned that I had a sister and called me by name. How did he even know about you? Slayer sure, that's understandable. My scent, even you can smell the scent I give off as the Slayer. But it doesn't make sense how he knew my name or that I had a sister."

Dawn nodded. "We need to tell Clay. That's he's not just a werewolf but a deranged psychotic killer."

Buffy and Dawn hopped from the bar and eased through the last scattering of the crowd. Brandon skirted his prey, and then leapt in for a pounce and grab. He had his fangs around the man's forearm and was shaking it like a chew toy when he noticed the sisters. He growled uncertainly, his blood-fogged brain taking time to recognize Buffy.

He stopped and they stared at each other. Buffy thought about how dangerous it was to face him down in his wolf form. She thought of what he could do to her or Dawn before Clay could come to their aid. Sure they couldn't die, but he could do some serious damage to them. Fear was not something a Slayer generally had experience with. They couldn't afford to be afraid. Yet she had to let her fear out to entice him into chasing her.

Dawn looked at Buffy as she caught the scent of her sister's fear. And then she smiled at what Buffy was doing. The old bait and relocate tactic Buffy had used with vampires before.

Brandon dropped his prey and lunged at Buffy. She waited until he was in mid-jump, then she turned and ran past Dawn. "Tell Clay and get ready," she said to her sister.

Brandon followed Buffy running past Dawn. Dawn turned and headed for Clay as Buffy circled toward the back wall to keep Brandon away from the clogged exit. She ran in a big circle and toward Clay and Dawn. She passed them and slid to a stop. Behind her, Brandon did the same, stopping in front of Clay and Dawn. He growled. Clay's foot shot out, caught him under the muzzle, and knocked him flying onto his backside. Brandon scrambled to his feet, wheeled, and bolted. Clay and Dawn ran after him. They disappeared into the main room and up onto the balcony.

Buffy was almost to the top of the balcony stairs when Brandon leapt over the edge. Clay and Dawn jumped as Buffy rushed down the stairs and ran to the exit to head Brandon off if he tried to escape.

Brandon didn't head for the door. Instead, he circled back to the rear corner of the room. Clay and Dawn were right behind him. He turned sharply and veered in a tight circle, tripping over a body on the floor. Recovering from his stumble, Brandon headed back toward the corner as if expecting a door to materialize there. Finally, he realized he was trapped and turned to face Clay and Dawn.

For several long seconds, Dawn, Clay and Brandon stared at each other. Brandon broke the standoff. He growled and hunkered down, hackles rising. Clay and Dawn didn't move. Brandon growled again as if giving fair warning. Then he leapt at Clay who dropped and rolled to the side. Brandon crashed and slid on the linoleum. Before Brandon could recover, Dawn was on him. She grabbed Brandon by the loose skin at the back of his neck and threw his leg over his back. Then she shoved Brandon's head to the floor, pinning him.

Brandon struggled wildly. He snarled and growled, snapping from side to side, trying to bite Dawn's hands. Dawn put her left knee on Brandon's back and wrapped her hands around Brandon's throat. She squeezed and Brandon gave one last tremendous buck. Dawn's right foot bounced off the ground just enough to make her shift position. As her foot came back down, it headed for a puddle of the dead man's blood.

"Dawn!" Clay shouted in warning as he got back to his feet.

Too late. Dawn's shoe hit the blood and her ankle twisted, shooting out from under her. Brandon threw himself forward at exactly the right second. Dawn tumbled off his back. The second Brandon was free; he saw the exit and made a beeline for it.

Buffy didn't bother blocking the hallway. Brandon could have plowed through her as if she weren't there. Instead, as he passed, she dove at him and grabbed two handfuls of fur. They toppled over together. As they rolled, he snapped at her arm. Buffy twisted it away, but not quite fast enough. One of his canines caught the skin under her forearm, and bit down. She gasped as her grip loosened. Brandon wrenched free as Dawn and Clay arrived one second too late. Brandon was already tearing down the hall. The far end of it was still congested with people, but they somehow found a way to clear out when they saw Brandon coming.

Clay started going after Brandon, but Buffy grabbed the back of his shirt.

"We shouldn't go out together," Buffy said.

"Right. You follow him. Dawn and I'll go back through the window."

But Dawn didn't move. "Buffy," she said as she looked at her sister's arm. At the bite. "Clay."

Clay followed Dawn's gaze and frowned. "Shit. Meet us outside Buffy and then Dawn will take over for you. Then you head to the car and stay there."

Buffy nodded and ran down the rest of the hallway and burst through the door to find herself in the midst of the crowd. She noticed that the entire Bear Valley police force and a battalion of state troopers had arrived. She stood there and rested against the side of the building for Dawn as the cops fanned across the roadway, shouting instructions and motioning at an alleyway. She realized that was where Brandon had gone.

Dawn came up beside her and looked at her sister. Buffy wasn't looking too hot. "Go to the car," she said. "We'll meet you there after we deal with Brandon."

Buffy nodded and somehow she managed to move off the wall and make her way across the parking lot.

Dawn looked to the alley and knew she would never get by the cops so she crept down a nearby alley instead. She spotted a four-legged figure appearing atop a brick wall. It crouched, and then jumped. She ran toward the wall as Brandon ran towards her. As he approached, she broke into a running leap and vaulted over his back, dropping to the ground behind him, rolling in a somersault, and landing in a runner's crouch. She started to run and she knew that Brandon's love of the chase outweighed his instinct for survival. When she turned a corner, he followed. She weaved through the alleys, leading him away from the blockaded street and the police. Finally, Dawn glanced down a connecting alley and saw the highway. On the other side, the industrial section gave way to wooded parkland, a place to Change.

Dawn sprinted for the road, forgetting something her mother had drilled into her when she was young. She didn't look both ways before crossing. She ran in front of a semi, so close that the draft knocked her off her feet. Dawn rolled to the roadside and leapt to her feet. As she spun around, a gunshot shattered the night air. Brandon was running across the road when the shot struck him and his head exploded. The force of the blast knocked him sideways into a path of an oncoming pickup and what the gunshot hadn't done the truck did as body parts went flying freely.

"Damn, I do hope he gets a proper burial," a voice drawled behind Dawn. "Poor misguided bastard deserves one, don't you think?"

Dawn turned to Clay and shook her head. "I screwed up."

"Nah," Clay said. "He's dead. That was the point of the evening. You did just fine, darling." He put his arm around her waist and leaned down to kiss her.

Dawn squirmed out of his grasp. She was worried for Buffy, not that her sister would likely die, being they were both immortal it was very unlikely. But rather the fact that Buffy was about to become a werewolf. "We should go," she said. "Jeremy wouldn't like us hanging around. Plus I'm worried about Buffy."

Clay nodded as Dawn headed down the street. After a few steps he jogged up beside her. "I'm not trying to be insensitive, but why are you worried. Neither of you can die short of someone chopping off your head."

"Because she's about to become a werewolf," Dawn replied. "I remember after you bit me. My first Change, I was afraid. I had no one Clay to help me through it. Buffy couldn't do it because she didn't know what was happening to me. Not till after I had Changed, then she knew of course. It would have been nice to have someone help me through my first Change. I need to be there for Buffy."

"And you will be," Clay replied as they rounded the corner beside the grocery, where they'd left the Explorer. "Son of a bitch," he muttered as Dawn followed his gaze toward Logan who sat on the ground next to Buffy leaning against the car. "Looks like someone caught a flight tonight after all."

Dawn ran toward her sister and Logan. "Hey!" she called. "Is Buffy okay?" She stopped in front of Logan and looked down at him. "Are you just going to sit there or—" She stopped. Logan's eyes stared out across the parking lot. Blank. Unseeing. Dead. "No. No."

Dimly, Dawn heard Clay run up behind her, felt his arms going around her, catching her as she stumbled back. A deafening howl split open the quiet of the night. Dawn was dimly aware that it was herself that was howling.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Dawn didn't remember how she got back to Stonehaven. She vaguely recalled walking through the garage door into the house, Jeremy appearing in the hall and starting to ask what happened with the mutt. He must have seen Dawn's face because he didn't finish the question. She brushed past him. Behind her, she heard Clay say something, heard Jeremy swear, heard running footsteps as the others overheard and appeared from wherever they'd been waiting for them. Dawn kept walking to the stairs and up to her and Buffy's room, closing the door behind her.

Jeremy brought Buffy up and laid her on the bed as Dawn moved from it to the chair. She watched as he left the room and then turned her attention back to her sister as tears came to her eyes. She didn't know how much time had passed before she heard Clay's footfalls on the stairs. He stopped outside her door and rapped on it. When she didn't answer, he knocked louder.

"Dawn?" he called.

"Go away," Dawn said.

"I want to see you," Clay said.

"No," Dawn replied.

"Let me come in and talk to you. I know how much you're hurting—"

Dawn looked at the door from the chair she sat in and snarled, "You don't have any idea how much I'm hurting. Why should you? You're probably glad Logan is gone and that Buffy is out of it. You probably hope she doesn't survive."

He inhaled sharply. "That's not true. You know it isn't. Logan was my brother. And Buffy well ..." He let the sentence die in his throat. He had never admitted to anyone what he felt about the blonde Slayer. "Let me in, darling. I want to be with the both of you."

"No."

"Dawn, please. I want to—" Clay tried again

"No!"

Clay was quiet for a moment. Then he made a low noise of anguish that crescendo in a growl of grief as he walked into his room, slamming the door behind him.

Having no way to vent her pain, Dawn spent the next few hours curled in the chair. Hours later Jeremy tapped at her door. She didn't answer. He opened the door and closed it behind him as he made his way across the room. He knelt down next to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, hoping to comfort her.

"We've buried Logan. Is there anything you'd like to do?" Jeremy said, softly.

Dawn knew what he was asking: was there any human rite of burial that would make her feel better? She wished there was. She remembered when Joyce Summers had died. How devastated she had been. She shook her head softly. She would pay her respects later. She motioned toward her sister.

Jeremy stood and moved to the bed as he settled on it quietly. He checked Buffy over and nodded. "The wound is already healing. She will probably wake up tomorrow, a werewolf. The first of her kind. There has never been another Slayer that I am aware of that has ever been bitten. When she wakes she will be a new breed of werewolf."

Later that day she held her sister's hand. As she sat there looking at Buffy she heard Jeremy and Clay just outside the door, arguing.

"—now!" Clay was yelling. "I can't stand to know what is happening to Buffy and not—"

Jeremy's voice was low as he spoke in a soft whisper, low enough she couldn't hear what he said to Clay.

"No!" Clay shouted. "They can't do this. Not to Logan or even to Buffy. Not to Dawn. I will not stand by—"

Another interrupting murmur.

"Christ! How can you—" Clay's voice choked off in rage.

Dawn heard Jeremy pull Clay down the hall. The only person she really wanted at the moment was not yet awake. Still as she sat at her sister's side, she listened. Clay wanted to go after Logan's killer. He also wanted to track down the mutt that had created Brandon. He wanted to avenge Buffy as well as Logan.

Jeremy tried to dissuade Clay. It didn't matter what Jeremy said the storm of Clay's fury drowned all logic. As Dawn rubbed her hands over her wet face, her grief over what happened to Buffy and for Logan was swallowed by fear. While they argued, Dawn kissed Buffy's hand and whispered to her sister that she would be back. Then she crept from the room unobserved, and hurried through the house.

Ten minutes later, Clay yanked open the door of his Boxster and thumped onto the driver's seat.

"Where are we going?" Dawn asked as he turned to see her huddled in the passenger seat. "You're going after Logan's killer and you want to track down the mutt that created Brandon. I want to be there. I need to be there."

"Are you sure?" Clay asked. "You don't need to come along. You should stay with Buffy. You said you wanted to be there for her. She will wake and her whole world will be turned upside down. She will need you."

"I know," Dawn replied. "But I also need to do this for her as well. I need to find out who bit Brandon, why he or she bit Brandon. I need to do this so I can explain to Buffy why she is now a werewolf." She wiped a tear from her eye. "I also need to help find Logan's killer. Don't try to stop me or I'll tell Jeremy that you've gone. I'll make him forbid you to do this. If you're already gone, I'll lead him to you."

Clay sighed. He then hit the garage door opener and started the engine as he backed down the driveway at neck-snapping speed and they were off to Bear Valley.

On the road to Bear Valley, Dawn thought about what they needed. She knew they needed a plan if they were go after Logan's killer or find the mutt that had bit Brandon. "Do you know where you're going?" she asked as they entered the town.

"To park."

"And then …?" Dawn asked.

"To find the bastard who killed Logan and created that mutt that bit Buffy."

"Great idea. Precision planning." Dawn grabbed the door handle as Clay spun into the downtown core's only public parking lot. "We can't hunt for him now. It's still daytime. Even if we found the mutt, we couldn't do anything."

"So what do you suggest? Enjoy a leisurely dinner while either mutt, unless they are one in the same, runs free?"

Dawn knew they needed something to distract them. They couldn't search for the mutt during the daytime. "We should find out what happened last night."

Clay slammed into a parking space. "What?"

"Find out how the town is reacting to what happened at the rave last night," Dawn said. "Assess the damage. Are they looking for more wild dogs? Are they doing anything with Brandon's body? Did anyone see us jumping through a second-story window? Did anyone see Buffy leading the mutt around inside the warehouse? And me leading the mutt away from the warehouse?"

"For Christ's sake, who gives a damn what they saw or what they think?"

"You don't?" Dawn looked at him. "If they decide to submit what's left of Scott Brandon for testing and they find something a wee bit strange, you aren't concerned? This is your backyard, Clay. Your home. You can't afford not to care."

Clay sighed. "Fine. What do you suggest?"

"We buy the paper," Dawn said after a few minutes, "go to the coffee shop and read it while we listen to what people are talking about. Then we plan how we'll stalk these mutts. After dark, we do it."

"Reading a damn paper isn't going to help us find Logan's killer or the mutt that created Brandon. We'd be better off having dinner."

"Are you hungry?" Dawn asked.

He turned off the ignition and was quiet. "No, I'm not."

"Then unless you have a more productive way to kill a couple of hours, that's the plan," Dawn said.


	12. Chapter 12: Mutts

**Author's Note: Reviews are not working properly. You can still review but they will not show up till the admin fix it.**

* * *

 **Chapter 12:** **Mutts**

After buying a paper, Dawn stopped at a pay phone to call Jeremy and Peter answered. Dawn asked Peter to tell Jeremy that she was with Clay and had convinced him that now wasn't the time to go after Logan's killer or the mutt that had created Brandon. Instead, they were taking inventory of the damage from the night before. Of course, she didn't mention that they'd be tracking down either mutt _later._ She then asked about Buffy. Peter said she was still out and that Jeremy had revised the time on when she might wake up, from tomorrow to later that evening. Jeremy had suspected that it was because of Buffy's Slayer healing that her body was preparing her much quicker for her new nature than what Dawn herself had experienced.

In the donut shop Dawn picked a booth, Clay went to the counter and returned with two coffees and two slices of homemade apple pie. She pushed the food aside and spread the _Bear Valley Post_ across the Formica tabletop. The incident at the rave party had made the front page. Brandon had been incinerated. No one had seen her and Clay drop through a second story window. No one had seen Buffy leading the mutt on a chase around the inside of the warehouse. And no one had seen her leading the mutt away from the warehouse.

"Waste of time," Clay grumbled as he read the article upside down. "There's nothing there."

"Good," Dawn said. "That's what we hoped for, so it was hardly a waste of time making sure." Clay snorted. "You're sure whoever you smelled on Logan was someone you didn't recognize."

"Yeah." Clay's said. "A mutt. A fucking mutt. Two in Bear Valley. Of all the—"

"We can't think about that now," Dawn said. "Forget how and why. Focus on who."

Clay nodded. "I didn't recognize the scent. Neither did anyone else. Meaning it's a mutt we haven't run into often enough to recognize the scent."

"Or he's new," Dawn said. "Like Brandon."

Clay frowned. "Two new mutts? One's odd enough, but—"

Dawn nodded "Skip it. You didn't recognize him. Let's leave it at that for now. See if you can hear anyone talking about last night."

At that exact same moment in Stonehaven Buffy sat up with a gasp and looked around the room. She spotted Jeremy sitting in the chair that Dawn had vacated. "Jeremy?"

"What's the last thing you remember?" Jeremy asked.

"We were in the warehouse at the rave trying to deal with the mutt, Brandon. I was guarding the door and he was running towards me," Buffy said. "It's gets hazy after that."

Jeremy nodded as he looked at the blonde Slayer. "It's natural for there to be memory loss just after."

 _Memory loss? Where have I heard about there being memory loss?_ Buffy thought to herself and then something clicked in her mind. She remembered that Dawn had not remembered how she had been bitten till just the other night when the memory shook itself loose. "I was bitten."

"Yes," Jeremy said. "Normally you would have been out for at least another day. But your change from human to werewolf was greatly accelerated by your Slayer healing. I promise I will help you through this, Buffy."

Buffy let out a sigh she hadn't known she had been holding. Jeremy reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder.

"I don't know how to tell you this Buffy. I know Logan was your friend, and the only person you and Dawn remained in contact when you had cut off all contact with the rest of the Pack," Jeremy told her. "Clay and Dawn found him sitting on the ground next to you. He's dead, Buffy."

Tears came to Buffy's eyes as she began to cry for the loss of another friend.

Jeremy watched and in an uncharacteristic move for himself he reached up and pulled Buffy into an embrace as he tried to comfort her.

Back in town Clay and Dawn had left the donut shop early and now approached the grocery store, Dawn stopped before rounding the corner so she wouldn't see the spot where they'd found Logan and Buffy.

"I can do it," Clay said, putting his hand against Dawn's back. "Stay here. I'll pick up the trail and see which way it leads."

Dawn moved away from his hand. "You can't. The scent was faint last night. It'll be worse now. You'll need my nose."

"I can try."

"No." Dawn stepped around the corner; hesitating only for a second, then propelled herself forward. When she saw the where the Explorer had been parked, her grief over Logan and Buffy came back two fold. She closed her eyes and centered herself before she inhaled, trying to block both Buffy and Logan's scents. It didn't work. Their lingering odor shoved aside all less familiar scents.

"I'm—" Dawn started. "I'm having some trouble."

"It's here," Clay said. "Faint, but I'm picking up something. Hold on a sec and I'll see if I can grab it." He made two rounds of the parking lot before he turned to Dawn. "Got it. Entrance trail is east, but the mutt exited here. Come over here and try."

Once Dawn got away from the parking spot, she relaxed. Clay stood near a mini-van. She walked to him and sniffed the air. Yes, the scent was there. An unfamiliar werewolf. The trail led across the parking lot, away from the grocery store and toward Jack's Hunting and Hardware. They spent over an hour, constantly missing the trail, looping back, finding where the mutt had turned a corner, and starting again.

The trail stopped at a Burger King that had been ostracized from its fast-food buddies on the other side of town. After another twenty minutes of circling and retracing their steps, Dawn picked up the trail again. Ten minutes later they were standing in the parking lot of the Big Bear Motor Lodge.

"Well, this was a no-brainer," Dawn muttered. "Two hotels in town. He's staying at one. Duh."

"Hey, you're the one who insisted we start from the grocery store."

"I didn't hear you suggesting anything else," Dawn said.

"It's called survival, darling. I know when to keep my mouth shut."

"Since when have—" Dawn stopped, noticing a woman standing in her hotel room doorway, making no effort to hide her eavesdropping. She walked behind a pickup truck and squinted up at the two-story building. "How many rooms by your count?"

"Thirty-eight," Clay said. "Nineteen each up and down. A main-floor entry for the bottom. A lobby entrance and emergency exit for the second floor."

"If it were me, I'd take a room on the first floor," Dawn said. "Direct room access. Easier to come and go at all hours."

"But the second floor has balconies, darling. And a hell of a view."

"First floor," Dawn said. "I'll start. Go hide somewhere."

"Uh-uh. We've played this game before. I hide. You never seek. I'm a bit slow on the uptake, but I'm beginning to sense a pattern."

"Go," Dawn said as Clay kissed her, and then ducked out of the way before she could retaliate.

Clay went to find someplace to wait as Dawn scanned the area. Starting by the emergency exit, she walked slowly down the sidewalk, pretending to study a sheet of paper she had found and allowing for generous sniffing pauses in front of each door. When she got to the end, she picked up the scent of the werewolf, heading not into a room, but into the lobby which meant the mutt had a second floor room. She looped back through the parking lot. Clay came out from behind the building before she could look for him.

"Upstairs," Dawn said.

"See, darling? No one ever claimed mutts have brains."

They headed for the front door, through the lobby and upstairs to the third door on the left. Clay grabbed the handle, twisted, and broke it with a muffled snap. After quickly making sure no one was in the room, he eased the door open. The curtains were drawn and the room was dark as they slipped inside. The room was indeed empty.

"Heads we lie in wait, tails we give chase," Clay said as he pulled a quarter from his pocket.

"We should stay here," Dawn said. "Check the place out, search for clues while we wait."

Clay rolled his eyes. "Oh fine. Just flip the damned thing."

"So what do you hope to find?" Clay asked as he looked around the room.

"Anything to explain why we had two, maybe three, mutts in Bear Valley within a week," Dawn said. "Aren't you the least bit concerned about that?"

Clay smiled. "Course I am, darling. But I'm sticking concern and curiosity on the back burner. Plenty of time to examine them both when their dead. I'm not waiting around for these bastards to go after you or the others while I try to find out what he's doing here."

"You think I'm stalling?" Dawn asked.

"No, I think you're trying to make efficient use of time," Clay said. "That's fine. I'm just saying don't expect me to be too eager to riffle through dresser drawers while that mutt's roaming our streets."

"Then go watch out the balcony or something while I search," Dawn said as he helped her look.

Clay started in the bathroom and found nothing of interest. Dawn's search of the main room hadn't turned up anything either.

"Christ, you should see the stuff in there, darling," Clay said as he walked from the bathroom. "Aftershave, cologne, and musk deodorant. If we couldn't tell the mutt was new by the way he smells, we'd know it by the _way_ he smells."

No experienced werewolf would be caught dead wearing cologne or perfume, at least not if he had a functioning olfactory system. The very smell of himself or herself would drown out all other scents, making his or her nose useless. Both Dawn and Buffy had stopped using scented hand soap and perfume after Dawn had been bitten, for the singular reason of Dawn's improved sense of smell.

After checking out the window, Clay walked to where Dawn was going through the trash.

"I'd offer to help," he said. "But you seem to have things under control."

"Thanks," Dawn said.

"Have you checked under the bed?" Clay asked.

Dawn shook her head. "Can't. The frame's solid to the floor."

"I'll check under the mattress," Clay said as he checked under the mattress. "No ID. Just this scrapbook. I don't suppose you want that."

Dawn jumped up so fast she conked her head on the giraffe-neck lamp. Clay grinned and held a blue book out of her reach.

"Mine," Clay said as he grinned. He held it out of Dawn's range, flipping through a few pages. He then tossed the book on the bed. "On second thought, it's all yours. Happy reading, darling. I'll stand guard by the window. Give me a synopsis later."

Dawn took the book and sat on the edge of the bed. She found newspaper clippings on serial killers. At the back of the book she found an article on a certain serial killer; Thomas LeBlanc.

"Shit," Clay said, making Dawn jump. "No way. No fucking way. Drop the book, darling. You've got to see this."

Dawn hurried to the window and looked out and recognized Thomas LeBlanc from his picture in one of the articles. Next to him were Karl Marsten and Zachary Cain, two mutts they knew very well.

"Marsten and Cain? What the hell are they doing together?" Clay said. "And who's the other guy? He must be the one."

"Logan's killer," Dawn said. "Thomas LeBlanc. And I think we know who might have bitten Brandon, either Marsten or Cain. We have to get out of here."

"Whoa," Clay said. "We're not going anywhere. This is what we came for, darling."

"We came to kill one mutt," Dawn said. "One inexperienced mutt. Three against two is bad enough but—"

"We can handle it," Clay interrupted.

"With no sleep or food in twenty-four hours?" Dawn asked.

"We could—"

"I can't," Dawn said. "If you stay, then I stay. But I'm in no shape for a fight. I'm exhausted and hungry, my arm is screwed up from the dog bite and remember I'm still worried about Buffy."

"Okay," he said. "We bolt. Is there still time …?"

"The balcony," Dawn said. "We'll have to lower ourselves down. No jumping."

"Your arm?" Clay looked down at the scabbed-over wound.

"I'll live," Dawn said.

Clay strode to the balcony, shoved the drapes aside, and slid the door open. "I'll go first and catch you if your arm gives out."

Dawn looked at the scrapbook for a second before grabbing it. Buffy might need it to put a dossier together for LeBlanc. She swung over the railing and dropped to the ground. They quickly ran around the corner of the motel out of sight of LeBlanc's room and slipped away without being seen. The walk to the car was a quick one. Less than twenty minutes later they were on their way back to Stonehaven for reinforcements.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"Absolutely not," Jeremy said, getting up from his chair to walk to the fireplace.

Everyone was in the study, including Buffy. Dawn held her sister's hand as she tried to unconsciously comfort her. Jeremy had told Dawn when she and Clay had returned that Buffy was awake and was indeed now a werewolf. After Dawn had visited with Buffy, she and Clay had told Jeremy and the others what had happened.

"I can't believe you're asking," Jeremy continued. "I made it clear that I didn't want this, but you took off anyway. Then Dawn calls to say you're just scouting out news about last night and somehow you end up—"

"It wasn't intentional," Dawn said. "We came across his trail. We couldn't pass up the opportunity."

Jeremy walked back to his chair. "No one is going after these three tonight. We are all exhausted and upset after last night, especially you two. If I hadn't trusted Dawn's word when she called, I would have been down there this afternoon hauling the two of you back here."

"But we didn't _do_ anything," Clay said.

"Only for lack of opportunity," Jeremy said.

"But—" Clay started.

"Yesterday we had one mutt in town," Jeremy said. "Today, he's dead and three more have shown up. Not only that, but of those four, we have Karl Marsten and Zachary Cain, two mutts who would be enough of a problem individually."

"Are you absolutely sure it was Marsten and Cain?" Antonio asked. "Of any two mutts I could imagine ever teaming up, those two rank right at the bottom of the list. What could they possibly have in common?"

"They're both mutts," Clay said.

"My guess would be that they haven't teamed up," Buffy said. "Marsten must have something over Cain. A definite leader-follower relationship. From what I understand Karl wants territory. Has for years."

"If he wants territory, he has to join the Pack," Jeremy said.

"Fuck that," Clay spat. "Karl Marsten is a thieving, conniving son-of-a-whore who'd stab his father in the back to get what he wanted."

"Don't forget the new recruits," Dawn said. "Brandon and LeBlanc are both killers. Human killers. Someone—probably Marsten—found them, bit them, and trained them. He's creating an army of mutts. Not just any mutts, but ones who already know how to hunt, to kill. Know it and like it."

Antonio shook his head. "I still can't picture Marsten behind this. Parts of it, yes. But this thing about creating new mutts, it lacks … finesse. And recruiting Cain? The man's an idiot. A first-rate heavy hitter, but an idiot. The chances of him screwing up are too high. Marsten would know that."

"Who the fuck cares!" Clay said, exploding from his seat. "We've got three mutts in town. One of them killed Logan, another bit the mutt who bit Buffy. How can you sit around discussing motivation and—"

"Sit down, Clayton," Jeremy said.

Clay hung there, twin instincts battling within him. He then turned on his heal and strode to the study door.

"If you go, don't come back." Jeremy said as Clay stopped. "If you can't control the urge, Clayton, then go downstairs to the cage. I'll lock you in until it passes. But if the problem is that you _won't_ control it, and you leave, then you're not welcome back."

Clay turned to Jeremy for a moment and then turned and walked out the door, veering not toward the garage or the front door but heading for the rear of the house. The back door opened and slammed shut. Dawn looked at Jeremy, and then went after Clay as Buffy followed her.

The sisters followed Clay into the woods. He walked until they were out of sight and hearing of the house. Then he slammed his fist into the nearest tree. "We can't let Cain and Marsten get away with this," he said. "We can't let them think we're backing down. We have to act. Now." He whirled to face the sisters. "He's wrong. I'm so sure he's wrong."

Clay closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "He's right. We're not ready for this. But I can't stand around while Logan's killer and the mutt who bit the one who bit you, Buffy, is out there, knowing the next one those mutts might go after could be you two or Jeremy. I can't do it. He's got to know that."

Clay slammed his fist into the tree again. Then he exhaled, shuddered, and looked at the sisters. "I'm trying here. You both know how hard I'm trying. Everything in me screams to go after them, hunt them down, and tear out their goddamned throats. But I can't disobey him. I can't do it."

"We know," Buffy said. When she had heard what happened to Logan, she had felt deep down within her both the Slayer and the wolf screaming at her wanting revenge for both herself and Logan.

"I'd like to run," he said softly.

"Run?" Dawn repeated unsure what he meant.

"If neither of you are not too tired. I just want to run. To do something, something with the two of you. Shoot Buffy is new to this and this would be a good way to help her learn more about what she has become."

Dawn looked to Buffy. "It's up to you, Buffy."

"He is right, I need to learn," Buffy said. "What do I do?"

Clay and Dawn looked for a place to Change as they explained Buffy how to start the Change. Once they found a clearing Clay had took off to the other side of the thicket leaving the sisters alone. Dawn watched as Buffy took her time in making the Change. When Buffy had finished, Dawn smiled as she looked at the blonde wolf before her. She then initiated her own Change, which came surprisingly easy.

The moment Dawn's Change was complete Clay barreled into her side and sent her flying. Buffy turned and looked as Dawn stood up. Clay had disappeared back into the forest. They took three steps and this time Buffy got torpedoed, crashing sideways into a bush and not seeing so much as a hair of their attacker.

Dawn and Buffy turned and started to run. Behind them, Clay burst into the clearing again and yipped on finding his quarry vanished. He turned and followed the sisters. They crouched behind a bush on either side of the path thinking they would lie in wait for Clay. Just then Clay dropped onto Dawn. Buffy was up in an instance and the three of them tussled for a few minutes, yelping and growling, nipping and kicking. Dawn managed to get her muzzle under his throat and heaved him over backward, then scrambled to her feet. Sharp teeth clamped on Dawn's hind leg and twisted, flipping her over. Buffy smiled and decided to take advantage of Clay's tactic and pounced pinning her sister. Buffy stood over Dawn for a minute. Then, without warning, she leapt off and followed Clay as they ran back into the forest. Now Dawn was _it_.

Dawn chased Buffy and Clay for about a half mile. They veered off the path at one point and tried to lose Dawn in the thick brush. Then the smell of rabbits drifted over on the breeze. Clay and Buffy slowed, twisting to do a double take at a pair of fleeing rabbits. Dawn picked up speed, tensed, and sprang at Buffy's back, pinning her to the ground. She turned to glance at Clay and found he was gone.

As Dawn got off of Buffy they heard a high-pitched squeal. Within seconds, Clay bounded back through the bushes, a dead rabbit dangling from his jaws. He looked at Dawn and waggled the rabbit, his eyes conveying the message with his actions: _Want it?_ Dawn stepped forward, sniffing. Her stomach rumbled. Clay yanked the rabbit out of her reach. _Tease,_ Dawn glared as she briefly glanced at Buffy who she could tell was laughing on the inside. Clay feigned tossing the rabbit toward Dawn, but didn't release it. Dawn gave him a baleful stare, then looked out at the forest. There was plenty more dinner where that rabbit came from. As Dawn was turning to leave, Clay tossed the rabbit at her feet. Dawn looked from it to him, expecting another trick. Instead, he rounded on her and nosed her toward the rabbit. Dawn gave Clay one final glance and then she ripped into the rabbit, gulping the warm meat in mouthfuls. Clay bounded back into the undergrowth and came back with the second rabbit; he gave this one to Buffy. He rounded on her and nudged her toward it.

Buffy glanced at the rabbit and then Clay and then she tore into it.

When the sisters awoke the next morning, they were lying alone in the dew-damp grass, wondering where Clay was. As the sisters were looking, a sprinkle of cold water hit first Dawn's head and then Buffy's. They looked to see Clay standing over them, grinning. Water dripped from his hands and glistened from his forearms. He was still naked.

"Looking for me?" he asked.

"We thought that a pack of wild dogs might have got you," Buffy said as she glanced at Dawn. She could tell why her sister had fallen for him all those years ago. He looked absolutely handsome event without clothes.

"You two looked worried," Clay said.

"We were," Dawn said. "Goddess knows what kind of indigestion you'd give the poor things."

"I was checking the pond," Clay said. "I thought we might go for a swim. First of the season. It would definitely wake us up.'

"Any food there?" Buffy asked as she felt her stomach rumble.

He chuckled. "That rabbit last night didn't quite do it, Buffy?"

"Not by half," Buffy said as Dawn agreed.

"Okay then. Here's the deal. If you two can't wait, we'll eat breakfast, and then swim. Otherwise, come swimming with me now and I'll make breakfast for the both of you afterward, anything and everything you two want."

Buffy looked at Clay and shook her head. "Why are you so friendly to me now, Clay?"

Clay's only answer was a smile and a wink.

Buffy sighed, she knew she wouldn't get an answer. She looked to her sister. "It's up to you. Breakfast first or swim first?"

Dawn smiled. "I think swim first."

Clay grinned and kissed first Dawn and then Buffy before jumping to his feet.

"Race?" he asked. "Last one there gets thrown in?"

Dawn and Buffy pretended to think it over, and then they jumped to their feet and took off. Five seconds too late, Dawn and Buffy realized they'd picked the wrong route. Dawn slowly fell behind Buffy. It seemed that the werewolf and Slayer had merged to make Buffy even stronger and faster than she had been before being bitten. As Dawn raced into the clearing beside the pond, Clay and Buffy stood on the north bank, grinning.

"Lose your way, darling?" he called.

Dawn limped over to Clay and her sister, dragging her right foot.

"Damned vines," Dawn muttered. "I think I twisted my ankle."

Buffy rolled her eyes as Dawn hopped onto the bank. Clay went forward to meet Dawn, his blue eyes clouding with concern. Dawn waited until he bent down to check her ankle, then she knocked him flying into the pond.

They stumbled back to the house later, still naked and not noticing or caring. Even Buffy, who had just become a werewolf, didn't seem to notice or care. Dawn expected that it was a result of living with her after she had been bitten that had made it easier for Buffy to acclimate to being a werewolf than it had been for herself.

"Pancakes, right?" Clay said.

Dawn nodded. "From scratch. No shortcuts. And funny shapes."

"And ham, I assume. What else?" Clay asked.

"Steak," Buffy said.

Clay laughed and put his arms around Dawn and Buffy's waists as the path widened enough for all three of them. "For breakfast?"

"You said we could have whatever we wanted," Buffy said.

"Can I get you two some fruit to balance that meal?" Clay asked.

"No, but you can dig up some bacon. Bacon and eggs," Dawn said.

"Dare I ask for a little help?"

"Not from Buffy," Dawn said. Even after two hundred years. Buffy had not improved her cooking abilities. "But I'll make coffee."

"Thanks a hell of a—" Clay started as they came to the forest's edge and stepped through to the backyard.

There, on the back patio, less than fifty feet away, stood Jeremy … surrounded by five or six unfamiliar human faces, all of which turned the second they walked from the woods. Clay growled and stepped in front of Buffy and Dawn, covering their nakedness as best he could. Jeremy wheeled around and ushered the group off to the side. It took a few seconds for them to move, and a few more for them to stop staring.

When the visitors had vanished around the side of the garage, Dawn grabbed Clay and Buffy's arms and made a run for the back door, not stopping until they were upstairs and into their respective rooms. The sisters had only put on panties and a bra before they heard Clay's door open. Expecting him to head downstairs to confront the trespassers, Dawn hurried to the door and yanked it open, only to find him holding the handle.

"Hey," Clay said. "If you're that eager to let me into your bedroom, I should offer to make breakfast more often."

Buffy rolled her eyes as she returned to dressing.

"I was—you're not—you're okay?" Dawn said.

"I'm fine, darling. Just coming to round you two up for breakfast while Jeremy gets rid of our uninvited guests." Clay said as he kissed Dawn, if Dawn had let him by he would have moved into the room and kissed Buffy as well. "And no, I'm not going out to help him. I'm in too good a mood to let a bunch of humans spoil it. Jeremy can handle them."

"Good," Dawn said.

"Glad you approve," Clay said. "So let's get breakfast going, then we can dream up a few ways to distract ourselves until Jeremy's ready to tell us how he plans to deal with Marsten and Cain."

As he leaned forward to kiss Dawn again, someone cleared his throat in the doorway. Dawn peeked over Clay's shoulder to see Jeremy there, arms crossed, a slight smile on his lips.

"Sorry to interrupt," Jeremy said. "But I need Dawn and Buffy downstairs. Fully dressed if we ever intend to get rid of these men."

"Yes, sir," Dawn said. "We'll be right there."

"Hold up," Clay said as Jeremy turned to leave the room. "I need to talk to you. I'll start breakfast. Have fun, darling. You too, Buffy." He walked out the door heading for the stairs.

Jeremy glanced at the door as he wondered. Had he heard right? Had Clay just wished Buffy, fun?

"I'm sure we will," Dawn said. "Sorry about that. The walking naked from the woods thing. We didn't expect visitors."

"Nor should you," Jeremy said, steering the sisters toward the back door. "There's no need to apologize. You both should be able to come and go as you like here. It's these damned intrusions that…"

"What is it this time?" Buffy asked.

"Another missing person," Jeremy said.

"The boy from the other day?" Dawn asked.

Jeremy shook his head as he held open the back door for them. "This time they're looking for one of the men who came on the property Friday. The middle-aged one. The leader."

"He's missing?" Buffy asked.

"Not just missing, but missing after having left a message for a friend saying he was coming here last night to check things again. Something about this place was bothering him. He wanted another look around."

"Oh, shit," Dawn and Buffy said.

"In a nutshell—exactly," Jeremy said. "On the bright side it seems your acclimating better that most newly bitten, Buffy. You even seem to have made friends with Clay."

Buffy looked to Dawn and nodded. "I think it's because of Dawn's experiences after she was bitten. Then living here for a while. I think to tell the truth it was only a matter of time before I would have asked Dawn to bite me."

"You saw what she was and wanted to experience it yourself?" Jeremy asked.

"More or less," Buffy said.


	13. Chapter 13: Mistrust

**Chapter 13:** **Mistrust**

There were six people in the search party, three local cops and three civilians. Buffy, Jeremy, Peter, Nick, and Dawn went out to help them. The five of them played the role of good and concerned citizens, scouring the bushes while keeping their noses on alert for anything they didn't want the searchers to find. One thing Buffy and Dawn would have rather they hadn't found turned up early in the quest.

"Got something!" one of the men yelled.

"Is it Mike?" another called, rushing from our sides.

As everyone converged on the scene, Nick's voice rang out, choked with barely contained laughter. "Forget it. It's—uh—nothing important."

"What the hell do you mean?" the first man said. "Maybe this is all a joke to you, son, but…"

The rest of the sentence trailed off as they burst into the clearing to find one of the searchers bending over a shirt, Buffy's to be exact.

Nick held up a pair of white panties and grinned at the sisters. "Wild dogs? Or just Clayton?"

"Oh Goddess," Dawn muttered under her breath. She walked over to snatch the underwear from him, but he held it over his head, grinning like a schoolboy.

"I see Paris, I see France, I see Dawn's underpants," he chanted.

"Everyone's already seen much more than that," Jeremy said as he looked to the sisters. "I think we can safely resume the search."

"So this—uh—wasn't done by wild dogs?" one of the searchers said.

Peter grinned and tossed the shirt to Buffy. "Nope. Just wild hormones," he said as Buffy glared at him. He laughed at her and wondered if she knew how Clay felt about her? Truly felt about her? While most of the Pack seemed to remain oblivious he had picked up on it the moment Jeremy had consented that Buffy join the pack, regardless if she wasn't a werewolf at the time.

Jeremy, two of the searchers, Buffy and Dawn were beating the bushes in the northeast quadrant of the woods when they heard another shout, this time infused with enough urgency to make them run. When they got there, Nick and two searchers were standing over a body. It was the missing man. His shirt collar was torn and drenched with blood. Above the collar his throat was shredded, flaps of flesh hanging from the wound. Empty eye sockets stared up at them. Crows or turkey vultures had found him first.

"Like the others," one man said.

"One difference," another said. "He wasn't eaten. Not by the dogs at least. Birds got to him though. Buggers don't waste any time."

A younger man bolted for the woods. Seconds later, the sound of retching filled the air. When the younger man stopped throwing up, he was quiet a moment, and then ran from the thicket.

"Come here! You guys have to see this!"

They followed the path of the young man's finger. There, in the damp earth, were paw prints.

"Can you believe the size of those things?" the young man said. "Christ, they're as big as saucers. Just like those kids said. These dogs are huge!"

As Buffy surveyed the thicket, her eyes caught sight of something snagged on a thorn bush. A tuft of fur, shining golden even in the shadows. While everyone stared at the paw prints, she grabbed the bit of fur and slid it into her pocket. She really hoped it wasn't hers and that she hadn't lost control last night.

Dawn, who had seen the fur also, looked at the paw prints as she recognized them. They weren't Buffy's. "Buffy and I have to go," she muttered, turning from the thicket as Buffy followed her.

"The fur is not yours," Dawn said once they were far enough away not to be overheard. "It's Clay's. I recognized the paw prints, they were his."

They made their way back to the house and inside. Dawn shouted out as the back door slammed shut behind the sisters, "Clayton!"

Clay appeared in the kitchen doorway, wooden spoon in hand. "That didn't take long. Come in and get the coffee going."

Neither sister moved. "Aren't you going to ask if they found the missing man?" Dawn asked.

"That would imply I give a damn," Clay said.

"They found him," Buffy said.

Clay nodded. "Good, so I presume they're leaving. All the better. Now come in and—"

"I found this by the body," Buffy said, pulling the tuft of fur from her pocket. "At first I thought it was mine."

"But it's not," Dawn said. "It is yours. Your prints were there, too."

Clay leaned against the doorpost. "My fur and my prints in my forest? Fancy that. I hope you two are not implying what I think you're implying, 'cause if you two recall, I was with you two all last night, which is when Tonio says this guy went missing."

"You weren't with us this morning when we woke up," Buffy said.

Clay sputtered. "I was gone five minutes! Five minutes to track and kill a guy? I'm good, but I'm not that good."

"Buffy and I have no idea how long you were gone," Dawn said.

"Yes, you do, because I'm telling you. Come on, you know I didn't do it. Use your heads. If I lost control and killed this guy, I'd have told you both at least about it. I don't hide anything from you Dawn. And Buffy, I don't want to face your wrath, because as the Slayer I know what you would likely do to me if I did kill a human. Besides I'd have asked for you two to help get rid of the body and what to tell Jeremy. I wouldn't have been swimming in the pond while some dead human was lying in our forest waiting for another group of hunters to trip over him."

"You didn't expect an immediate search party, so you thought you had more time. You planned to hide the body later, after you got us out of the way," Buffy said.

"That's bullshit and you two know it. I just told you that I don't hide things from either of you. I don't lie to either of you. I don't deceive either of you. Not ever."

Dawn stepped forward, lifting her face to his. "Oh, really? Somehow, I forget the discussion we had before you bit me, when you told me you had a way for us to stay together. But yet didn't reveal a damned thing. Convenient amnesia, I guess."

"I did not plan that," Clay said. "We've been through this before. I panicked and—"

"We don't want to hear your excuses," Buffy growled.

Clay took a step back from Buffy. "You two never do, do you? You both would rather talk about things I _didn't_ do, and then toss that in for good measure when the opportunity arises. Why do I bother defending myself? You two have made up your minds about everything I do and don't do, and the reasons I do them. Nothing I can ever say will change that." He spun on his heel and stalked back to the kitchen.

The sisters turned the opposite way, strode into the study, and Dawn slammed the door behind them. About twenty minutes later, the study door opened and Nick peeked around. Dawn was curled up in Jeremy's armchair as Buffy lay on the couch. When Nick opened the door, Dawn unfolded herself and straightened up as did Buffy.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

"I smell food," Dawn said. "If you can share, you're more than welcome."

Nick slipped into the room and put a plate of pancakes and ham in front of each of the sisters.

"All done outside?" Buffy asked as she and Dawn tore into the food.

"Pretty much," Nick said as he sat beside Buffy. "A couple more cops showed up. Jeremy sent Peter and me in."

Antonio walked through the door. "Are they investigating the scene?" he asked sitting down opposite Nick, next to Buffy.

Nick shrugged. "I guess so. They brought cameras and a bag of stuff. Someone from the morgue is on the way to pick up the body."

"Do you two think they'll find anything?" Antonio asked the sisters.

"Hopefully nothing that doesn't link this killing to a wild dog," Dawn said. "If it seems clear-cut, they should wrap up the investigation pretty fast and devote their efforts to finding the dogs. No sense wasting time gathering evidence when the presumed killers will never see a courtroom."

"Just the business end of a shotgun," Antonio said. "If they see so much as a flash of fur in the woods, they'll shoot. When we need to run, we're going to have to find someplace far from here and Bear Valley."

"Damn," Nick said. "When we find out who's responsible, they're going to pay for this."

"Oh, Dawn and I have a good idea who's responsible," Buffy said as she took the tuft of fur from her pocket and tossed it on the footrest. "At first I thought it was mine that I was not quite acclimated yet to being a wolf that I Changed without knowing it and killed him. Then Dawn saw the paw prints and she knew it wasn't mine."

An hour or so later, Buffy and Dawn were alone again in the study.

"Blood," Clay said, swinging open the study door so hard it smacked against the wall. "Where was the blood?"

"What blood?" Buffy asked.

"If I killed that guy, I would have had blood on me," Clay said.

"You washed it off in the pond. That's why you made up the story about checking the water temperature, to explain why you were wet," Dawn said

"Made up? Why the—" Clay said. "Okay, assuming I cleaned up in the pond and decided it would be easier to invent some excuse for being wet instead of just drying off; you two still would have smelled blood on me. The scent wouldn't wash off that easily."

"The smell would be weak," Dawn said. "Buffy or I would have to been sniffing for it."

"Besides," Buffy reminded him. "I'm new to this remember? And if Dawn hadn't caught the smell of it, I sure as likely wouldn't either.

"Well, then sniff for it now. Come on," Clay said as he looked at the sisters. "I dare you two."

"You've had plenty of time to wash it off," Dawn said.

"Then check my shower," Clay said. "See if it's wet. Check my towels. See if they're damp."

"You'd have covered your tracks by now. You're not stupid," Dawn said.

Clay shook his head. "No, just stupid enough to leave a body in the woods with my prints and fur scattered all around. Why do I bother? Nothing I can say will change either of your minds. Do you two know why? Because you two want to believe I did it. That way, you two can hole up in here and dwell on how wrong you two were to come to me last night, for forgetting what a monster I am."

"That's not what we're—" Dawn said.

"It's not?" Clay stepped forward. "Look me in the eye and tell me that's not what you two have been doing for the last hour."

Dawn and Buffy glared at him and said nothing. Clay stood there for at least a full minute, then threw up his hands and stormed out.

A while later, Jeremy came in. Without saying anything, he walked to the footrest, picked up the tuft of Clay's hair and looked at it, then put it down and sat in his chair.

"You don't think he did it, do you?" Dawn said.

"If I say no, you'll both try to convince me otherwise. If I say yes, you'll use that as ammunition against him. It's not important what I think. What's important is what you two think." Jeremy said. "But let me change the subject for a moment. I know you two have ties in Toronto, jobs, friends. Did you tell them you were going to be out of town?"

"We were in a hurry," Buffy replied.

"I suggest you do that now," Jeremy replied. "We don't want them enquiring why you disappeared, not without something to point the other way."

"He's right," Buffy said with a sigh. "It's why we tend to fake an accident any time we change identities. So there are no unneeded questions on where we went."

"Okay we'll call them," Dawn said.

"Not yet," Jeremy said. "I've sent Nick to round up the others for a meeting."

"You can fill us in later," Dawn said.

"A meeting implies a group meeting," Jeremy said. "A group meeting implies that all the members of the group are expected to be there."

"What if we aren't members of the group?" Dawn asked reminding him of the agreement.

Jeremy let out a sigh. "Once you leave that may very well be the case, and if you do I will honor the agreement. But while you two are here, you are part of the Pack."

"We could remedy that," Buffy said, "we could leave right now."

"Beautiful weather we're having, isn't it?" Jeremy asked, instantly changing the subject.

"Do you ever discuss anything you don't want to discuss?" Dawn said.

Jeremy smiled. "It's the privilege of age."

Buffy snorted. "It's the privilege of position. For guess what, Dawn and I are older than you. Last I checked you hadn't even reached a century, where we've passed two."

Jeremy laughed. "Touché."

Just then the others came in. The first issue of business was no one was allowed to run on the property until the mess with the police had been settled. Issue two involved Jeremy's next plan of action. Once again, it didn't go over well with Clay. It didn't sit too nicely with Dawn or Buffy either.

"You can't leave me here," Clay shouted.

"I can't?" Jeremy asked.

"You shouldn't. It's stup—It doesn't make sense."

Jeremy nodded. "It makes perfect sense. And you're not the only one being left behind." Jeremy continued, "I won't have you, Dawn and Buffy coming along when you three are at each other like this. Besides Buffy is too new to being a werewolf, she needs more time to get acclimated."

"But I didn't do anything!" Clay said. "You haven't even accused me of killing that guy. You know I didn't do it. So why should I be punished—"

"It's not a punishment," Jeremy said. "Whether you did it or not doesn't matter. So long as you three are fighting, I want you here, where the only damage you can cause is to each other … and assorted pieces of furniture."

"Why leave all three of us?" Buffy asked.

"Because I don't _need_ either of them or you. I'm not intending to track or fight anyone. It's simple information gathering. Even if you three weren't arguing, I wouldn't take any of you. It's an unnecessary risk. I want to learn more about these mutts. I don't want to rely on secondhand information, so I'm going myself and I'm taking Tonio and Peter as backup. Nick isn't coming either and I don't hear him complaining."

"It doesn't sound like much fun," Nick said.

Jeremy smiled. "Exactly."

"But—" Dawn said.

"It's past lunchtime," Jeremy said, getting to his feet. "We should eat before we leave."

After lunch Jeremy, Antonio, and Peter left for reconnaissance duty. Once they were gone, Buffy and Dawn retreated again, this time to their room, where they called work and their friends in Toronto.

As they hung up they knew that they would have to go home and soon. Their bosses and friends would get suspicious. The sisters stretched back in bed and rested as they dozed. Suddenly Nick came walking into the room unannounced.

"Do you ever knock?" Dawn said, as she and Buffy sat up in bed.

"Never. I'd miss everything if I did that." Nick grinned wickedly. "Did I miss anything?"

"Everything," Dawn said.

"Guess I'll have to start something myself then," Nick said, thumping down beside Buffy. "It's nice in here. Nice and quiet and very private."

"Perfect for sleeping," Buffy said.

"It's too early to sleep. I have something better in mind."

"We're sure you do," Dawn said

Nick grinned and leaned over to kiss Buffy, then ducked out of swatting range. "Actually, I was thinking of something else for a change. Since we're not allowed to run on the property, I thought maybe the four of us could drive somewhere for a run tonight."

"Dawn and I ran last night," Buffy said.

"But I didn't and I'm going to need to Change soon."

"Then go with Clay," Dawn said. "There's no reason all four of us have to go."

"I've already talked to him. He'll only go if you two will. He doesn't want you two by yourselves, in case the mutts make a surprise visit. "

"I'm sure they wouldn't—" Dawn stopped herself, realizing she wasn't so sure. "Do you have to go tonight? It's been a long day and—"

"I was thinking of a hunt," Nick said.

"I'm not sure we—" Dawn said.

"A deer hunt."

"Deer?" asked Buffy.

Nick laughed. "Dawn, how long has it been since you hunted anything bigger than a rabbit? Not on your own, I'll bet. Plus Buffy needs to learn how to hunt."

"He's right. A hunt would be a good idea," Clay said from the doorway. "Keep us busy while we're waiting for Jeremy. Nick needs to Change and he can't do that here. And as he said Buffy has never hunted, well not as a wolf anyways. Remember I got you both those rabbits last night. So she needs to learn to hunt. Besides I'm not leaving you two behind by yourselves. I'm sure you two can stomach my company for an hour or two."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Clay looked sharply over his shoulder and met first Dawn and then Buffy's eyes. They had driven an hour to a forest a good distance away from Stonehaven. The sisters had listened to Nick and Clay talk. The topics had been varied but the final topic had been where they all would like to go after this was all over. The sisters hadn't said anything but Clay had known the answer was not Stonehaven and he had stalked off to find a place for his Change.

"I'm not sure this is such a good idea," Dawn said to Nick. "Maybe Buffy and I should wait in the car."

"Come on," Nick said. "Don't do that. You two can blow off some steam. Just ignore him."

Dawn and Buffy agreed. Well, didn't actually agree, but Nick took off before they could argue and he had the car keys.

When Buffy and Dawn stepped from the thicket after their Change, Clay was there. He stood back, nose twitching. The sisters eyed him for a moment, and then cautiously started to skirt around him. They were almost past him when he twisted and lunged sideways, grabbing Dawn's hind leg and yanking it out from under her. As Dawn tumbled down, Buffy turned and was on Clay before he knew what hit him. Buffy and Clay rolled through the underbrush, knocking into a sapling and sending a squirrel scampering for a steadier perch. Buffy then leapt to her feet and ran toward Dawn. Behind her, Clay crashed through the brush. After no more than ten yards, Buffy heard a yelp, and then felt the ground shudder as Clay fell. She looked at Dawn who was up ahead and then glanced over her shoulder to see Clay snapping and tugging at a vine caught around his forepaw. Buffy slowed to turn around and go back for him, and then saw him break free and lunge into a run. Buffy turned and followed Dawn as they plowed into something solid, somersaulting over it and into a patch of nettles.

They sisters looked up from where they had landed to see Nick. With a growl they got to their feet. Nick stood back and watched, eyes laughing as Buffy and Dawn disentangled themselves from the nettles. Clay snuck up behind Nick and crouched, forequarters down, rear end in the air. Then he pounced, knocking Nick flying into the nettles. As Nick was struggling to stand, Dawn and Buffy walked by him with a _serves you right_ snort. Nick grabbed Buffy's foreleg and yanked her down. They tussled for a minute before she managed to get free and darted behind Dawn who stood next to Clay.

While Nick extricated himself from the nettles, Clay rubbed his muzzle against first Dawn and then Buffy. Nick walked around them, rubbing and sniffing a greeting. When he lingered too long sniffing near Buffy's tail, Clay growled a warning and he backed off.

Dawn looked to Clay and her sister and she began to wonder. What was up with Clay? Was he trying to be a big brother to her sister? Or was there something more? As she thought over every time since Buffy had become a werewolf they began to run. As she thought about everything she began to realize what only Peter and Clay themselves had known for sure. Clay was not only in love with her, but Buffy as well.

Dawn remembered what had happened before she had been bitten, and she figured that was why Clay had hidden his feelings. Jeremy would not have approved of any sort of intimate relationship with Buffy since she had still been human at the time. Just as he had not approved of her relationship with Clay before she had been bitten.

As they ran Buffy was in the lead as Clay and Dawn jostled for second place, Nick content to stay at their heels. They'd gone about a half mile before they caught the scent of fresh deer. And they stopped to plan their moves. In wolf form they didn't need to talk to plan. Their brains had the instinctual knowledge of thousands of years of wolf instinct ingrained in them and they used that now to decide a course of action.

Dawn walked to the east, sniffed the air and caught the deer's scent again. A lone stag. That meant they didn't have to worry about cutting a deer from a herd. Clay slipped into the forest and vanished while Nick, Dawn and Buffy circled through the woods, getting downwind before following the scent again. They found the stag grazing in a thicket. Dawn crouched and sprang. The deer paused only a millisecond before leaping over the bushes and breaking into a gallop. Nick, Buffy and Dawn tore after it, but the gap between them and the deer grew.

As often happened, the deer made the fatal error of throwing his energy into the opening spurt. They hadn't gone far when he started to slow, wheezing and snorting for breath, too frightened to pace himself.

Dawn found Clay's scent in the air, and ran the deer toward him by veering out one way with a short burst of speed that sent it flying in the opposite direction. As they ran, the stag's fear escalated into panic. It galloped full-out, vaulting fallen trees and careening through undergrowth. As they rounded a corner, Clay lunged from the bushes and caught the deer by the nose.

The stag slid to a halt and shook its head wildly, trying to dislodge Clay. Meanwhile, they caught up. Dawn darted under the deer and sank her teeth into its stomach. Buffy and Nick attacked the deer's sides, lunging and biting and skittering out of the way before the deer could aim a hoof or antler in their direction. Clay was being tossed from side to side, but he hung on.

As Dawn clung to the stag's underbelly, she ripped and sliced, dancing on her hind legs to keep out of hoofs' reach. When she'd torn a gaping hole, she released her grip and clamped down farther up. At last the deer's front legs slid forward. Clay released his grip on its nose and tore into its throat. The deer thudded to the ground.

Once the deer was down, Nick and Buffy backed off and found a place nearby to lie down. Clay lowered his head and looked at Dawn. His muzzle was stained with blood. Dawn licked it and rubbed against him. Below them, the stag's limbs were still quivering, but its eyes stared forward, all life gone. Clay moved over to Buffy and nudged her up and toward the dear and the three of them tore into its side, steam swirled into the cool evening air.

When they'd eaten our fill, Nick approached and began to feed. Clay walked to a clearing and looked over his shoulder at Dawn and Buffy as they followed and dropped down beside him. Once Nick finished eating, he curled up next to them and they drifted off to sleep.

They hadn't been napping long when Clay jumped up, spilling Dawn and Buffy to the ground.

Dawn snapped awake when her head struck a rock. As she scrambled to her feet she nudged Buffy awake. The sisters noticed that they were alone in the clearing. Night had fallen, bringing with it only nocturnal sounds of nature. Dawn growled at Clay as she and Buffy started settling back down to their nap. Clay knocked the sisters each in the ribs with his muzzle and made a show of sniffing the air. They glared at him, but did as he asked. At first, neither Buffy nor Dawn smelled anything. Then the wind shifted and they knew what had made him jump up, the scent of another werewolf.

Zachary Cain.

Buffy nudge Nick awake as Clay bounded off into the brush. The sisters knew Nick would follow as they started to run. They found the thicket where Cain had been watching them from. Nick stuck his nose in, took a deep breath, backed out, and raced after Clay. Cain's scent wove deeper into the woods. Dawn looked to Buffy motioning for her to take the lead. She knew that Buffy's human vision was better than hers because of the Slayer. She just hoped that the wolf had the same improvement.

Bushes crackled to the north, something big breaking through the undergrowth. It wasn't Clay or Nick. They veered north. They'd run about a quarter mile when the sisters the vibration of running paws hitting the ground somewhere behind them. That was Clay and Nick.

Twisting around, Buffy saw a huge reddish-brown shadow burst from behind the rock and run in the opposite direction. Buffy dug her claws into the soft ground to stop, then pivoted and raced after Cain. Only two pairs of footfalls followed: Dawn and Nick. Clay was gone, taking another route in hopes of cutting Cain off like he had the stag. After a quarter mile, he swerved to the east. He was heading for the road, hoping to escape. Ahead, the forest opened up as they approached the road. Dawn swung to the left followed by Buffy, hoping to gain a few feet by anticipating Cain's route. He didn't turn, though. He kept running, back into the forest.

Seeing what Cain was doing, the sisters looked ahead and saw a clearer patch of land to the northwest. When Cain didn't head that way, the sisters did. Nick stayed on Cain's tail, not so much trying to catch him as hoping to run him into the ground. The sisters path led to a rocky hill. Once they were at the top of the hill, they could see the whole terrain. To the east, there was a flash of gold as Clay weaved through the trees. As a nearly black wolf Nick wasn't so easy to spot at night, but after a moment, the sisters saw some trees shake below them. The sisters followed the path of the rustling trees and bushes. They were coming this way. Buffy and Dawn traced the line of their route and moved to the spot where they guessed they'd come out. They were rewarded by the crashing of undergrowth directly in front of them. Seconds later, a massive shape shot through the brush.

Seeing the sisters in his path, Cain stopped. He growled and dropped his head. His green eyes blazed and his dark blonde fur stood on end. Buffy pulled back her lips and snarled. Cain looked at Buffy and then suddenly turned and … ran. As Cain disappeared down the hill, Buffy and Dawn started after him.

They'd gone maybe a dozen feet when something landed on Dawn's back, knocking her legs from under her. Buffy stopped thinking that Cain had gotten the drop on them as she twisted and saw Clay standing over Dawn. Dawn tried scrambling to her feet, but he held her down. Dawn snapped at him, catching his foreleg in her jaws and clamping down, growling. Buffy growled at Clay and she leapt at Clay who ducked out of the way. For a second, Clay hesitated wondering if he could take Buffy. Then he bounded off, not after Cain, but in the opposite direction. When Dawn was back on her feet, Buffy nuzzled her out of concern. Dawn nuzzled her back to say that _she was alright._ They turned and raced after Clay to the clearing where they'd first Changed. Dawn spotted Clay in the midst of his Change. So the sisters found their own clothes and Changed back as well.

When Dawn and Buffy stormed from the clearing, Clay was already there. "Where's Nick?" he said. "Goddamn it! He's got the keys. Wasn't he right behind you two?"

"What are you talking about?" Buffy asked.

"Don't you get it?" Clay asked. "He was distracting us, keeping us busy."

"Nick?" Buffy asked.

"Cain." Clay said. "We were asleep and he didn't attack us. We chased him and he didn't fight or try to escape. He just kept us going in circles. Nicholas!"

"But why—" Dawn started.

"Jeremy. They've gone after Jeremy. Goddamn it!" Clay said. "They've probably been watching the house and we didn't even—There you are!" Nick walked out of the forest. "To the car. All of you. Move!"

They moved.


End file.
